Page 15 of Stetson
I bit my lip to stifle laughter. That was a fun night.
“You’re proving my point,” Mav said. “And if you didn’t want to do this, you would have said so.”
“But what about Barrett?”
“What about him?”
“They can’t both want me.”
“What happened to that ego I was just talking about?” I yelped, Mav grabbing my cheeks and turning me to face him. “Listen to me, Stetson. You might be an absolute trash fire but you’re hot. You’re wicked smart and you have one of the best histories of any player in the MLB. Not one, buttwoequally hot, older men want you. If you don’t run with that shit, I will.”
Oh, hell no. My eyes must have reflected that, because Maverick laughed and released me. “That’s what I thought.”
He sat back and resumed his show without saying another word. Though the smug smile on his face said everything it needed to.
Fucker.
* * *
April
Two weeks later, I was no closer to making a decision.
Luckily, I had the high from back-to-back wins to distract me. Twelve games into the season and not a single loss. We’d just returned to Atlanta following an adrenaline-filled game in Washington. The rain there fit the somber mood left behind as Georgia ran off into the sunset with the win.
That night, I found myself at Harrison’s place downtown. We had a home game the next day, so we risked staying up a bit later. Unfortunately, that risk came with Harrison discovering a bottle of Cuervo in his freezer. Clearly, my last encounter with tequila wasn’t fresh enough in my mind for me to turn it down.
A few shots in, I had a decent buzz going. Enough to be coherent enough to turn away the next double shot slid my way.
Too bad I didn’t listen to that voice in the back of my head telling me to clean up my act. I knocked that shot back like I was getting paid to do so.
And it was that shot that had me grinning like a fool when Harrison handed me his phone, showing me a video of a dare the college students had been doing. “Fuck it,” I said. “Let’s do it.” My slurring should have concerned me, but I was past the point of making good decisions.
Harrison’s mouth curled into a wicked grin. His tolerance was lower than mine, so he was already well beyond wasted. “Hell yeah!”
I eyed the bottle of tequila on the table. There was barely anything left, but enough for one more shot each. I licked my lips, still tasting the salt from my last. Harrison nudged the bottle my way. “Dare you to chug.”
9
LEVI
“Care to explain yourselves?”
I tossed my keys on the kitchen island and regarded the two men in front of me. Stetson and Harrison sat on the opposite side, soaking wet from head to toe and dripping on my kitchen floor. They both had towels around their shoulders, though the flimsy things weren’t doing much to aid the drying process.
Harrison spoke first, barely coherent. “We just wanted to have a good time!”
“By getting drunk off your asses and streaking through the fountains in Centennial Olympic Park?Duringthe season? You’re lucky no one called the police! There could have been kids around!”
Stetson snickered, eyes in his lap.
“You think this is funny? I should call your agent and wake him up.”
Stetson’s head snapped up, and he swayed on the spot. “No!”
I knew that would get him if nothing else did. Stetson’s agent was a notorious hard-ass.
“Do either of you realize what you have to lose if you get a drunk and disorderly charge? What about public indecency?”
