Page 7 of Off Season
He wiggles his eyebrows. “No shit.”
“Speaking of shit, is Quincy losing his?”
He winces. “She’s telling him this morning. I’m going to head home soon, anticipating an angry Quincy stopping by.We can talk, man to man. I’m not planning to dick her around. I wouldn’t do that to Q.”
I nod in understanding. “Honestly, I’d fucking throttle you if you went out with any of my sisters.”
He winks. “It’s a good thing they’re all married. You’ll meet Arizona tonight. She and her friends are meeting us out.”
“Sweet. Hot girls usually hang with other hot girls.”
“I thought you were hanging out with that girl, Brianna.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Have you ever known me to be truly serious with anyone? The front doors are always open for business on the Cheetah bus to Manchester.”
There’s a reason it’s been a long time since I’ve had a serious girlfriend. I’m a lot to handle. I know that about myself. I like to have fun. I want to be the life of the party. I say and do crazy things. Putting all that aside, I hate hurting people. I hate confrontation. When a relationship goes to shit, which it always does, I allow it to go on longer than it should because I don’t want to hurt the woman. In the end, we both end up mad or hurt. I’ve stopped trying.
Layton smirks. “You’d be serious if it was a clone of Gemma DePaul.”
I give him the finger. They all like to rub my nose in the fact that I have an innocent crush on teammate Trey DePaul’s wife. She might also be the reason I don’t date. No one measures up to her. She’s perfection.
“She’s just a friend.”
He chuckles. “I know, but how much porn do you watch that has brunettes with great tits?”
I scrunch my face. “A lot. You know I like to watch the ultimate act of intimacy.”
“You like to watch porn. Nothing intimate about that.”
Yes, I’m a normal, red-blooded man who likes a healthy dose of porn. Admittedly, I put it on in hotel rooms whenwe travel, but I mostly do that just to fuck with the guys. They think it’s crazy, and I’ve got a rep to protect as the funny, nutty teammate.
He continues, “You’re a kinky motherfucker, Cheetah. Just admit it.”
I shake my head. “Kinky sounds dirty. I prefer…erotic. It’s a sexier term.” I gyrate my hips back and forth suggestively, and he laughs.
He shrugs. “Whatever, dude. Is there even a difference between erotic and kinky?”
I roll my eyes. “Of course there is. Erotic is teasing your woman with a feather, driving her crazy with desire. Pushing her to the edge before you give her what she needs. Kinky is using the whole fucking chicken for some messed up shit. Big difference.”
He starts laughing hysterically. I notice our trainer, Jeffrey, biting back his smile.
Like I said, I have a rep to protect.
It’s nighttime,and we’re sitting in our regular booth at Screwballs. The owner always ropes it off for us, loving the attention we bring to his bar. It’s a huge booth. Not only can we all fit in it, but there’s plenty of room for any guests we invite to join us. It’s often a few random girls, but not tonight. Tonight, it’s Arizona Abbott and her friends. I’m kind of excited to meet professional softball players. I don’t know any.
Quincy is running late, but our teammate, Ezra Decker, is with us. He’s our second baseman and good friend. He’s a shy, understated man from the Midwest who happens to be one of the nicest guys I know.
I ask Layton, “Can you tell us their names again?”
He scoffs in annoyance. “Arizona is my girl. Ripley is the tall redhead. The brunette identical twins are Bailey and Kamryn. I only met them briefly, but I think Kamryn is the outgoing one. I can’t tell them apart though.”
“Are they hot?”
He nods. “All four of them are hot. I think the twins might be up your alley. They’re sexy brunettes.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I had sex with twins once. It was amazing.”
His lips curl up in amusement. “You did? Could you tell them apart?”
