Gage took my lack of commitment as an affirmative and winked in my direction. “See you at ten. Don’t be late. Oh, and it’s BYOB.”
“I live here. Why would I have to bring my own beer?”
“Beer? Who said anything about bringing beer?”
My eyes went wide, and I blinked dramatically—several times. I shouldn’t have been baffled by his stupidity anymore, yet I still found myself questioning how he’d made it this far in life. “You did. You just told me it was BYOB.”
“Oh, LeeLee…” He slowly shook his head with a wide smile stretched across his face. “The B doesn’t stand for beer.”
“Then what does it stand for?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Again, I gaped at him, hesitating for a moment with the hope of understanding him—even though that was nothing more than a giant waste of time. “Yes…as a matter of fact, Gay, I would.”
“For real…why do you keep calling me gay?”
“Because you’re just so darn happy.” I offered an exaggerated grin. “Are you going to tell me what the B stands for now?”
Gage knitted his brows and shifted his attention between Coby and me a few times before saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, cookie.”
Throwing my hands into the air, I contemplated giving up. “The conversation we were literally just having.”
He dismissed me with a flippant wave. “I rarely hear what you say when you talk. I just like to watch your mouth move and envision the way your lips would look wrapped around—” A couch pillow slammed into his face, cutting off what I could only assume was an offensive statement mid-sentence. “Ow! What the fuck, Coby?”
My best friend just sat there and stared at Gage, a hard, stoic expression chiseled into his features. He didn’t respond, only blinked a few times, but it was enough to get his point across. Coby didn’t appear to be angry, more protective than anything, and it made me giggle under my breath.
There was never a dull moment in this house.
I rolled my eyes and trotted off down the hall, hoping to get some work done before the guys would drag me out for Gage’s self-proclaimed “going-away party.”
With the school year fast approaching, I’d spent the majority of the day holed up in my room while they watched reruns of Sports Center and yelled at the television like the players could somehow hear their remarks. Since St. Michael’s was a private school, their curriculum was different than the public school system’s, and I was behind the eight ball. I would be teaching classes on material I’d never read, so I was desperate to get through what I had to cover in the first semester and then hopefully be able to keep up with the remainder of the year once I got started.
My brain was fried by the time dinner rolled around, and neither of the Neanderthals in the living room had done anything toward making sure there was something to eat. I wandered out of my room, not thinking about the fact I wasn’t wearing a bra. It wasn’t until the catcall came from the couch that I realized I’d stood in the kitchen in nothing but a fitted tank top and the skimpy pair of shorts I lounged around in.
“Damn, if I’d had a teacher who looked like you, I might’ve failed more grades just to repeat your classes.”
“Considering you were probably driving yourself to middle school as it was, I doubt you could’ve been held back more than you already were. But I’m sure you made your mama proud—literally aging out of school is quite an accomplishment.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but as fast as it came on, it vanished. “Do you have panties on under those shorts, LeeLee?”
“The guys at the club prefer I take the pole without them.”
“I’ve got a pole you can dance on.”
“I need something with girth…entertaining on a toothpick gives me splinters.”
He stood up and stuck his hand down his pants. “Oh, I’ll show you gir—”
Coby had watched the playful exchange with a grin until the moment Gage reached for his junk. He chucked the remote at him, hitting him hard in the stomach and said, “Keep this shit up, and I’ll have nothing left to throw at you other than the coffee table.”
“She started it.” How he managed to say that with a straight face was beyond me. “I was just going to prove to her I’m not packing a hot dog…it’s a grade A kielbasa.”
“Good luck with that. Ellie’s not into sausage.”
“Wait…you like fish?” Gage’s eyebrows rose in excited question.
“Dumbass, she’s not a lesbian.”
“Who can say for sure? After three years with Poison, she might’ve switched teams.”
“Seriously, Coby? Does everyone call Ryan by boyband names?” I couldn’t help the laughter that fell from my lips. I wasn’t sure Coby even remembered Ryan’s name, but I would bet money Gage had no clue what it even was.
Coby smirked, proud of the fact he’d avoided using my ex’s name almost entirely, although even more satisfied that Gage had just kept it alive. He winked at me instead of responding and turned back to the TV. My gaze lingered on him for a beat too long. Before I let myself sink too far into the trance I’d temporarily gotten lost in, my stomach growled, reminding me of why I’d gone to the fridge to begin with.
“There’s nothing in there to eat, E.T.,” Coby called across the room without taking his focus off the screen. “You were supposed to go to the store yesterday, remember?”
“Remind me again why that was my job?” Coby had gotten to the point he did nothing. He didn’t run errands, he didn’t leave the couch, and other than Gage and me, he didn’t socialize. He simply existed.
“He makes the bacon, you fry it up, honey.” Gage couldn’t help but insert his two cents.
“She doesn’t eat bacon.”
“What the hell? You don’t like sausage or bacon?”
“Bacon tastes good. Pork chops taste good.” Coby never stopped with the movie lines these days. It just proved how many hours he wasted in front of the TV—I only prayed it was temporary and would end once I started my job.
Without an ounce of thought, I played along, the words flowing past my lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, except I’d never know because I wouldn’t ever eat the filthy motherfucker.”
Gage’s eyes went round. I wasn’t sure what shocked him more: to hear me continue Coby’s Pulp Fiction reenactment or the fact that I’d cussed.
“You like Quintin Tarantino flicks?” So, Gage was surprised I could quote the movie.
“Coby does. I’ve just endured years of bad movies…and, I don’t dig on swine.”
“Did you ever find out how Ry-Guy guessed you don’t eat pork?” Coby still hadn’t turned away from ESPN. These two were random as hell. I’d swear they both had ADD if I hadn’t known Coby my entire life. It was a complete mystery how I followed any of it.
“Nope. Guess it will remain a mystery.”
“You could text him,” Gage suggested. “Or even better, I could.”
“You don’t even know the guy, Gage.” I would no more hand over Ryan’s phone number to Gage than I would have given him my own if I’d had the opportunity to stop it.
“Yeah, but with my legendary status, no guy would turn down the chance to be my BFF.”
“I’m sure you’re the talk of locker rooms across the country.” I rolled my eyes, wondering where this guy’s ego came from. Although, I didn’t have to look far to see that every woman he encountered was after the chance to be next up to bat. “So…dinner?”
“I vote pizza.” Coby’s vote never changed.
“Supreme.” Gage looked at me as if he expected me to place the order.
“You both have cell phones; one of you order. But no sausage if you get supreme.”
“Wait, you’re serious about this whole pig thing?” Gage was flabbergasted. “I’d ask if you were Jewish, except I’m pretty sure most Mexicans are Catholic.” He refused to drop the joke th
at had gotten so old I no longer bothered to respond.
“Yeah, she doesn’t eat pork,” Coby absentmindedly answered for me. “She saw a pig get hit by a car when she was like three. It’s some traumatic reaction to that memory…according to her mom. PTSD—Pig in Traffic Stress Disorder.”
“It was our next-door neighbor’s pet, Coby! Elvira and I played together all the time.” My eyes watered thinking about her after all these years. “She was so little.”
“Poor babe,” Coby deadpanned. As insensitive as his joke was, he only meant to tease me in our naturally friendly manner. He studied me for a moment as if making some mental assessment, and then shook his head. “It’s obvious you’re an only child.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing, nips.” His honey-colored eyes dropped to my chest, reminding me once again of my state of undress, and I quickly placed my palms over my breasts. “No Elvira on the pizza. Got it. Anything else before you go put on a hoodie, Madonna?”
Gage turned his squinted stare my way. “She looks more like a Prudence to me…then again, Madonna was like a virgin.” He arched a brow and sang, “Touched for the very first time.”
Coby bit his lip, chuckling on the couch. I might not be as experienced as Gage Nix in the bedroom—or wherever he chose to contract germs—but I wasn’t uptight. I dropped my hands and pulled my shoulders back. If he wanted to stare at my breasts, he could have his fill.
“Ellie…” Coby drew out a warning, the humor in his tone from seconds ago completely gone.
“Coby…” I mocked him in reply.
“For the love of God, go put on a bra.”
“Or don’t,” Gage added. “I fully support a woman’s right to choose.”
Coby stared at me, almost daring me not to do what he wanted. I’d never seen this side of him, but prior to Gage, I’d also never hung out with him in the presence of anyone from his team. This was unchartered territory for us. Although Coby’s big-brother attitude had become a bit of a killjoy.
So, I opted not to change.
That was a decision I regretted two slices of pizza and four shots of Jäger later. I’d perfected the art of quarters in college, primarily to keep from getting drunk at Ryan’s frat parties, yet it seemed that was one of those skills you lost when you didn’t use it. And I hadn’t used it since he’d graduated.
When the game started, I might have spoken a little too highly of my abilities. And when Coby went to the bathroom, Gage and I upped the ante.
“How confident are you, LeeLee?”
“Very.”
“Oh, yeah? So what are you willing to wager?”
“If I beat you, you’re never allowed to let that insipid nickname cross your lips again.”
“Deal. And if I win, you go out with me.”
Thinking I had this in the bag, I foolishly agreed. We were already slightly buzzed, but with nothing to do other than send Gage off with a bang, I figured this was my opportunity to shut him up. We’d managed two rounds before Coby returned, both of which had gone in my favor. But that all changed when my best friend came up behind me and caged me in against the table. A split second before I released the coin, he ran his finger up the back of my thigh, sending my quarter off the mark…and a tingle to a place Coby shouldn’t affect.
“No fair. Coby cheated!” I whined, dreading the fifth shot.
“Drink up, LeeLee.”
Two could play at this game. I took the shot and sauntered around the table, wedging myself between Gage and the top. My chest pressed against his, and when I looked up, I barely met his shoulder. My breath hit his neck, and there wasn’t enough room between the two of us to slide a piece of paper. He leaned his pelvis into me, illustrating why all the ladies were after him, and bounced the coin into the shot glass.
“That’s another one for you, Ellie.” Coby eyed me suspiciously, but he played into Gage’s corner.
I took the shot while Coby watched, never taking his eyes off my face. And then I continued what Gage had started, wiggling my behind on his crotch. When he gripped my hips, Coby’s nostrils flared, and as soon as I released the quarter, Gage slipped his hand between my legs, beyond Coby’s line of vision. My head fell back on his chest, and I realized—even in my drunken stupor—I might’ve bitten off more than I could chew.
When I leaned across the table to grab the shot glass Coby had filled, I could feel Gage’s length between my cheeks.
And then he was gone.
“Kyler, your turn. I’m going to use the can. I’ll be right back. LeeLee, don’t let him take this round.” He pointed at me just before he turned around.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Coby’s brow furrowed. “What was that?”
“What?” Playing coy wasn’t my strong suit. Although getting Coby to forgive me was.
At the time, it seemed harmless. I made my way to him, thinking my strut was sexy, although it was likely anything but. My arms slid around his waist, and I stared into his soft-brown eyes. With my breasts pressed firmly against his chest, I leaned up and kissed him right behind his jaw, just under his ear, and whispered, “Jealous, Kyler?”
His hands had naturally gone to my hips, but when I got closer, he slid his palms to my ass and cupped my cheeks. He squeezed just slightly before deciding to push me back. Embarrassed by the shameless flirting that wasn’t well received by my best friend, my face flushed and my stomach dipped.
Just after we separated, Gage came bounding back into the room.
“Did you hear that, Kyler?” Gage stood in front of the TV, pointing at the screen. “ESPN just showed a whole segment about your time on the mound. And Chuck Bridges hinted that ESPN is in negotiations with you. Congrats, man. Why didn’t you tell me you accepted the offer?”
Coby glanced at me before quickly averting his stare and waving Gage off. “Because I didn’t. I haven’t made a decision.”
“What are you talking about…? What offer?” I didn’t have a clue what they were referring to, but clearly, Coby was keeping something from me.
“Nothing, E.T. It’s not a big deal.” Coby’s refusal to make eye contact told me differently.
“Then why won’t you tell me about it?”
“There’s nothing to tell. We can talk about it later.” He gave me a sickeningly sweet smile that made me want to vomit. “Maybe when you sober up a bit.”
My feelings were hurt, and I’m sure the alcohol amplified the effects. Gage knew something about Coby that I hadn’t been privy to. We’d been together day in and day out for weeks with nothing to distract us, but somehow, he’d failed to mention a job offer from ESPN, and I couldn’t fathom why.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I think it’s time I call it a night.”
“You quitting on me, LeeLee?”
“Sorry, Gage. I need to get to bed. Have a safe trip tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll see you when you get back.”
I glanced over at Coby and saw the way his shoulders slumped, but I didn’t put him on the spot any further. For whatever reason, he’d chosen not to tell me what was going on. Just before I closed my door, I heard the two of them down the hall.
“I swear to God, Nix. I asked you to keep it to yourself.”
“I’m sorry, man. I thought if they were talking about it on national television, that meant you’d accepted the deal. And if you’d done that, I figured you had told her.”
I didn’t wait to hear more and finished closing my door. As the room swayed, so did my thoughts. I had no business getting this intoxicated, much less with two men. One of which was on a mission to date me, and the other… I didn’t finish that thought. My eyes closed, and I was out.
Unknown: LeeLee, when are we going out?
When Gage had told me he’d gotten my number out of Coby’s phone, I didn’t believe him, but this was evidence he had.
Me: Fourth of never
I added his name to my contacts.
Herp: Nope nope. We had a bet, and you lost.
&n
bsp; Me: I didn’t lose. I quit.
Herp: Forfeit. Loss. Either way, it’s a win for me.
Me: You threw me a curveball.
Herp: I’m not a pitcher…not on the field, anyway.
Me: I’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing.
Herp: If you’re talking about you owing me a date, then yes. If not, then you should get your mind out of the gutter.
Me: Whatever. You’re the one who lives in the gutter.
Herp: So what did they offer him?
Me: Offer who? Do you have Tourette’s?
Herp: Coby. ESPN. And no…I’m STD free
Leave it to Gage to make me smile while bringing up such a sensitive topic.
Me: I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.
Herp: Still? I thought you two were like thieves in molasses.
Me: I think you’re getting your metaphors mixed up. Either way, he hasn’t told me anything about it.
Herp: So ask him.
Me: Did you need something?
Herp: You. Wasn’t that how this whole conversation started?
Me: Goodnight, Nix.
Herp: I’ll be home in nine days. Be thinking of all the ways you can wow me on our date.
Me: You’re the “legend,” shouldn’t you wow me?
Herp: It’s about time you admit it.
Me: You may play third base, but you’re not getting there with me.
Herp: I like a girl who plays hard to get.
Me:
For days, the texts continued. Each one more of the same. But with each flurry of interaction, I began to like Gage more and more. He was fun, flirtatious. I appreciated that he didn’t take things seriously and just wanted to have a good time. I knew he had no interest in a relationship, so his playful banter was harmless.
With Gage, our third roomie, out of town, things had gone back to the way they normally were. Coby and I either spent our days by the pool while I consumed the mandatory, twelfth-grade English reading list or we sat together in front of the television. Today, he chose the Titans’ game to watch. It was hard not to notice the change in Coby’s demeanor when he saw his teammates on the screen. His eyes dimmed and he pushed his full lips out—not quite in a pucker, but something similar to duck lips…or the male version of them. I’d gotten lost in the nuances of his mouth when he waved his hand at me, trying to clear my cobwebs.
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