“Me?” Cassius even pressed his hand to his chest and widened his eyes for good measure. “I like my balls attached to my body, fuck you very much. Coach would cut them off if I pulled any of that shit.”
“I’d pass him the tweezers and the itty-bitty blade to help,” Pearce said from my side. The group laughed, and Cassius flipped him off.
“Fuck you, Malcolm. Whatever size blade veterinarians use for an elephant or whatever would be the only blade that could cut it.”
Pearce’s barb was instant. “Damn, is that why you’re still not able to do a slam dunk after all this time? Your oversized balls? Shit, Cass, maybe it’s time we intervene and organize a medical consult for you.”
“Whatever, man. My balls are perfect specimens. I’m thinking about getting them insured.”
“Fucking hell.” Ollie wiped a hand over his face, then met my gaze. “Bet you’re wishing you’d hermitted our boy away tonight rather than dealing with these dicks.” He followed up with an amused smile.
Ignoring how it most definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed by Pearce’s team that I did tend to steal their teammate away after a game, I returned his smile. “It’s a healthy reminder of what I’m missing out on.”
“Missing out on?” Ollie raised his brows, smirking. “More like a ‘thank fuck this part of your life is over.’”
I snorted. “Well, I don’t miss having a coach ride my ass or—”
“Who’s riding your ass?” Pearce’s bicep pressed against mine. Whether he was aware or not, when we were together, he was tactile… seriously so. Not that it was a hardship. At some point over the past five years, he’d used his voodoo skills and trained me to not only crave his touches, but damn if he hadn’t gone and trained me to do the same thing with him, and only him.
“Not you,” Cassius spat, laughing loudly, while I snorted good-naturedly, trying not to think about what it would be like for Pearce to ride my ass.
Pearce flipped his friend off.
“Talking of riding asses, what happened to that guy who was rubbing up all over you?” Cassius pushed. I’d been thinking the same thing, despite the curdling in my stomach.
“He wasn’t rubbing up all over me. Not sure what skanks you’re getting with, but that’s not for me,” Pearce fired back, voice light and breezy.
I frowned and risked a glance at him, noticing pink in his cheeks that belied just how carefree he’d attempted to sound.
“Since when?” Cassius challenged. “And dude, no skank shaming.”
A laugh rumbled out of Pearce, and he raised his hands. “My bad. There’s nothing wrong with skanks.” He cleared his throat before saying, “I was just talking to the guy is all. He’s a fan.”
Innuendo dripped off Cassius’s words when he said, “I just bet he is.” He then made a show of looking around before settling his attention back on Pearce. “Actually, where’s your usual hookup?”
I swallowed hard, knowing exactly who Pearce’s “usual hookup” was. He actually seemed like a decent guy. Not that I wanted to hang out with the reporter, especially if he was getting it on with Pearce.
Fuck, I hated being such a double-standard dick, but Pearce and I didn’t get together half as much as I liked—living states apart made that hard—which meant when we did, I wanted him all to myself. Seriously, referring to myself as a selfish prick was just the tip of the iceberg.
“How should I know?” Pearce said, arm still pressed against mine. “I haven’t seen him for a while. Well, notseenhimseen him.”
This was news to me. Not that we discussed his hookup or Wayne all that much. We had a mutual unspoken rule about not talking about other men. It didn’t mean I wasn’t morbidly curious, though.
“Huh” came from Cassius, and I didn’t miss the flash of something—a warning maybe—Pearce shot his way.
The bartender appeared before us and took our order. While we waited, I nudged Pearce. “You good?” I couldn’t help but feel like I’d missed something in all that.
He angled toward me, resting a forearm on the bar. “A win and a beer with my best bud? Hell yes. Of course I’m okay.” With nothing but sincerity in his gaze or his tone, I relaxed. He didn’t look put out over not hooking up with that guy. “You okay staying for this, then heading out?”
“We can stay if you want to hang with your team.” I could be magnanimous when I wanted to be.
“I’d prefer to catch up with you instead. You not getting in till this afternoon meant we missed out on last night’s slumber party.”
I snorted. “You’re such a dickhead. But yeah, having to meet today with the foundation was important, but I would have appreciated it a whole lot more if it had been another day.”
He bobbed his head and took a pull of his drink. “How is everything with the foundation?”
“Going great. Pride Youth is going strong. We’ve got more sponsorships and have finalized a visit to the summer academy again.” I’d been involved in the LGBTQ+ youth foundation going on seven years, having first met one of the foundation’s directors when doing a stint at Montview during the elite basketball training camp.
