The hot water soothed my aching muscles. Our season opener was in three days. Coach had run us into the ground today, but the team was in high spirits as we showered off the remnants of the four-hour practice.
Not only did we have the next two days off, but our first game was a home game. Getting to start the season on our field, with our fans, was a huge morale booster.
A burst of laughter drowned out the rushing water. I cracked one eye open and looked down the line of shower stalls.
Petey and Hayes were in stalls next to each other, and it looked like they were in the middle of a soap fight.
“Children!” Cooper barked from the other end of the showers. “Do I need to put you in separate corners?”
I looked at our disgruntled captain, and my eyes met a pair of dark brown ones.
“Like what you see?” Chase sneered, his face dark with anger.
“Not especially.” I focused on the wall in front of me.
“Wonder what the rest of the guys would think if they knew you were creeping on them in here?” he asked. His tone was conversational, but his words were heavy with threat.
“Wasn’t creeping on anyone. Just looking to see what the commotion was about.”
“Sure you were.”
“If you’re so scared of me checking you out, why did you get in the stall beside me?”
I should have kept my mouth shut and let him either burn himself out or start talking smack about me to the team.
Chase had been upping his bullshit lately. Most of his comments were relatively benign. He’d been careful not to say anything overtly homophobic or use slurs. Nope. His style was to allude and try and trick me into engaging.
Matt had pointed out that Chase seemed to want me to lose my shit on him. That he was using his words to try and bait me into snapping or putting hands on him. Considering what a coward he was, that tracked.
Normally, I could just ignore him. I’d learned long ago that I needed to pick my battles. Chase was annoying as fuck, but he technically hadn’t broken any rules.
“You saying I shouldn’t have?” he asked darkly.
“Not saying that at all. Just pointing out that it’s a bit weird you’d shower next to me when you’re so scared I’m going to check you out.”
“You did check me out.”
I snorted and flicked my gaze to his. The walls of the shower stalls offered enough privacy that everyone other than your direct neighbors wouldn’t be able to see the goods, but a quick glance downward would be enough for the person next to you to see everything.
“How many times have you checked out my dick?” His face twisted into a sneer. “Are you actually a catcher, or do you prefer to pitch? How worried do we need to be about dropping the soap?”
“You seem very interested in what sex with me is like. If you’re curious, you just have to ask.” I batted my eyelashes at him, purposefully keeping my eyes locked on his so he couldn’t accuse me of scoping out his junk.
“Watch it, Crawford.” The warning in his voice was loud and clear.
“Don’t worry, Ballsac. You’re not my type.”
Chase’s last name was Balzac. I didn’t usually stoop to the level of making fun of his name, but I was stressed, and my grip on my self-control was precarious.
His glare intensified. “Watch your mouth.”
Anger rushed through me, and my vision shimmered around the edges. Between the stress of the season starting, the shit going on between Matt and me, and just dealing with life, I wasn’t in the mood to put up with Chase’s passive-aggressive shit and thinly veiled homophobia.
“But I bet you’d look pretty all bent over for someone,” I muttered and turned off the water.
“The fuck did you say to me?” Chase’s voice echoed against the tiled walls, and the entire area went silent.
“Guys.” Cooper’s warning voice cut through the silence.
“I didn’t say anything.” I grabbed my towel from the bar on the outside of the little door to my stall.
“I fucking heard what you said. You want me to repeat it so everyone knows exactly what you think about in here?”
“Chase, enough.”
“Really, Coop? Jumping to Crawford’s defense? I guess affirmative action helps you off the field too.” He practically spat the words at me, his handsome face ugly and distorted with rage.
“Chase!” Cooper barked.
“Affirmative action?” I laughed and wrapped my towel around my waist. “You think that’s why I’m the starter and you’re my backup?”
“Can’t make the queer feel like he’s being picked on.”
“Balzac!” Cooper appeared in front of our stalls. “Shut it down, now.”
“Why, afraid he’s going to get the school lawyers after us? Oh no, the poor baby can’t handle a few words. Where’s your safe space now, fa—”
“Hey!” Cooper’s loud voice echoed in the room like the crack of a whip. “Do NOT finish that sentence.”
“The fuck is going on?” Matt came stalking down the space between the rows of showers, a towel around his waist and his face red with rage.
“Awww, how cute. Your boyfriend is coming to your defense.”
Matt’s face went white, which was alarming, considering how flushed he’d just been.
“That’s it.” Cooper smacked his hand against Chase’s stall. “Get the fuck out of there, put on some clothes, and get your ass into Coach’s office.”
“Why? For making a few jokes?” He turned his rage on Cooper.
“We don’t joke about that shit in here.”
“Only because we can’t. Why do the rest of us have to tiptoe around his feelings?”
“Nah, man.” Adams piped up from Chase’s other side. “We don’t joke about that shit because it’s fucked up.”
“Just a bunch of fucking woke liberals.” He turned off his water and yanked his towel off the other side of the door.
“Okay, boomer.” Matt gave him a sugary sweet smile, his earlier panic gone. “Got any more buzzwords you’d like to toss at us?”
Chase turned on Matt and opened his mouth.
“Not one more word.” Cooper hit the stall door again. “Get out, get dressed, and get your ass into Coach’s office. Don’t make me say it again.”
Chase leveled a murderous stare at him, then shoved the door open with enough force that it bounced off Cooper’s arm, which he’d thankfully been able to raise in time to deflect the door. The bar on the outside of it could have seriously hurt him if he hadn’t.
“Show’s over, kids. Finish up and get out. Enjoy your days off.” Cooper clutched his towel around his waist and stalked toward the changing room, muttering something about overgrown children and herding cats.
“You manage to finish?” I asked Matt. Everyone turned back to their showers. The sound of faucets being turned on created a nice background of white noise. I’d been so angry I hadn’t even noticed most of the guys had turned the water off during that whole thing.
“Yeah. All done.” He pointed to the shower kit in my stall.
I swiped it off the single-seat bench and followed Matt to one of the showers closest to the changing room. He grabbed his own kit, and we made our way toward my locker.
Chase was yanking his shirt over his wet head while Cooper stood a few feet in front of him, still in his towel, glaring and silently daring Chase to start more shit.
Chase flicked his gaze between Matt and me, his expression going from angry to disgusted.
“Don’t look at him.” Matt stepped between us, his back to Chase. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“I lost my cool,” I muttered.
“What happened?”
“I accidentally made eye contact with him. Cooper yelled at Petey and Hayes. I turned toward his voice, and bam Chase was staring at me.”
“He was staring at you?” Matt bit his lip.
“Yeah.”
“Then what?”
“He said some shit about me checking him out. I made a crack about how he seems to really want to know what sex with me is like and told him he wasn’t my type. I should have stopped there, but he just got under my skin.”
“What did you say?”
“That he’d look pretty bent over for someone.”
Matt snickered. “Oh my fucking god.”
“He didn’t like that.” I smirked, my anger gone and replaced with amusement.
“He would look good bent over. Maybe with a ball gag,” Matt said thoughtfully.
“Didn’t realize you were so kinky, Landry.” I dropped my voice so only he could hear it. “Is there something you’ve been meaning to tell me?”
“It’s not the ball gag that’s hot. It’s that it would make him shut up that’s doing it for me.”
I snort-laughed, trying to keep my composure as more guys trickled into the changing area.
“Imagine the hate fuck you could give him? He’d walk funny for a month by the time you were done with him.”
“If I could get it up.” I opened my locker. “I’d have to put a bag over his head and pretend he was someone else. Hate fuck or not, his face makes me want to punch something.”
“Hard same.” Matt chewed his lip.
“What?” I asked.
He glanced around. “Let’s change and get out of here.”
I turned my back to the rest of the room as Matt walked off.
“You okay?”
I jumped at Big D’s voice. His locker was next to mine. He’d never had issues changing when I was around, but we didn’t talk while we were naked.
“Fine.” I made sure to keep my eyes on my locker as he pulled off his towel and rubbed it over his chest.
“Chase is a dick.”
“He is,” I agreed.
“He doesn’t speak for all of us. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I get that.”
“This is super awkward, but I just wanted you to know that you being gay isn’t a thing. Not to me.”
I blinked, not quite sure what he was saying. “Um, thanks?”
“I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” he said gruffly. “I just mean that we’re bros. I think about you being gay like Landry is blond. It’s just one part of you, not what you are.”
“Thanks, that means a lot.” I took a chance and looked at him.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t even react.
“My brother came out to us over Christmas. He plays ball too.”
“Yeah?” Where was he going with this?
“He’s sixteen. We had no idea. He said he’s known since he was little but couldn’t tell us until now.” He sighed. “He’s terrified of what will happen when people find out.”
“Like, in general or because of baseball?”
“Both. We don’t live in the most liberal town,” he drawled.
Big D was from the South, Alabama, if I remembered correctly. I’d noticed he only drawled when he was excited or drunk. Otherwise, he’d adopted a sort of blank accent that sounded like he was from everywhere and nowhere.
“Anyway,” he said, “what I was trying to say is that I thought about a lot over the break. All the jokes I made to him. The way I let my friends talk around him. I never thought I was homophobic. I thought I was a good ally. But my little brother kept his secret from me for years because he was afraid. I just wanted you to know that if I ever said anything stupid or made you feel like I have an issue with anything, I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate it, but you’ve got nothing to apologize for. A few jokes don’t bother me because I know there’s no malice behind them.” I pulled on my shirt as he did up his jeans. “When it comes to allyship, you’re solid. And he’s a kid. Remember how things were at sixteen? How much pressure was on us and how every little thing felt like the end of the world?”
“Sure do.” He snorted.
“It sounds like you really love him, and I’m sure he knows that. I didn’t tell my family until I was fifteen. Not because I was afraid of how they’d react, but because I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud.”
“I hope that’s all it is and that he didn’t think I’d have a problem with it. But yeah, I just wanted to let you know we’re cool, and I think Chase is a dick.”
“Thanks, man.” I slapped his shoulder like bros do.
“Ready?” Matt came up behind us and slung his bag over his shoulder.
“Almost.” I sat on the bench, pulled on my socks, and stepped into my shoes. When I was done, I grabbed my coat and bag.
“Take her easy.” Big D gave us a big grin.
“And if she’s easy, take her twice,” Petey quipped from his locker a few feet away.
A wet towel smacked into the back of Petey’s head. “Hayes!” he bellowed, not bothering to look over his shoulder.
“Wasn’t me,” Hayes said, his face the picture of innocence.
“You’re so dead.” Petey grabbed the towel off the floor and wadded it up in his hands.
“For the love of…” Cooper shouted from the other side of the room. “Save it for when you’re outside and no longer my responsibility.”
“But we’re always your responsibility, Captain,” Petey called back.
Matt grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the door.
“That was exciting,” he said when the door to the locker room banged shut behind us.
“Definitely eventful.”
“Crawford.”
I stopped dead at Coach’s voice.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
“Come here a minute.”
Matt leaned against the wall, his intention to wait clear. I turned and walked over to where Coach stood in front of his office.
“Yeah, Coach?”
“You can wipe that look off your face.” He smirked. “I didn’t make a huge thing of that scene in the showers. Just made it known that he’s on my radar and that I don’t put up with that shit on my team.”
“Thanks.”
“Now get out of here so I can go home.”
“All good?” Matt asked as he fell into step beside me.
“Yeah. Coach handled it.”
“I have a theory.” Matt pushed the door to the outside open.
“What’s that?”
“I think Chase is gay, or at least curious.”
I snorted. “Yeah. That whole ‘the homophobic bully is secretly gay’ stereotype isn’t usually true. Not outside romance novels and movies.”
“I think in this case he is. I mean, he showered next to you, and he was looking at you when you turned and caught his eye. The whole room was looking behind him, but he was staring at you. Seems a bit sus.”
“More like he was glaring at me and making sure I didn’t peep his dick.”
“Or maybe he was checking yours out.”
“Doubtful. Chase is one of those guys who’s genuinely grossed out by gay sex. It comes from a place deep within him. He can’t look at me and not see a gay man. I’m sure when he’s thinking about me boning another guy, it’s not because he secretly wants it. It’s because it disgusts him. You can’t fake that kind of repulsion.”
“Maybe not, but it’s weird how obsessed with you he is.”
“Again, it’s not me but the fact that I’m gay. He watches me so he can catch me doing all the things he’s afraid of. He’s not checking out my dick or secretly pining over my body. He’s on some sort of personal mission to catch the queer predator and prove to everyone that he’s right. That guys like me are disgusting and perverted and don’t belong on the team.”
“Do you think it’s all the gay thing or partly because you’re his direct competition?”
I snorted and shifted my bag to the other shoulder. “We’re both seniors, and I get eighty percent of our game time. I’m positive that one just compounds another. Not only am I better than him, but a gay man is better than him. I’m sure he’d dial the hate back a few notches if I was just the better player. In his mind, the fact that I like dick makes me inferior. Less of a man. But this dick-loving gay boy is better at ball than him. It has to twist him up.”
“You sound like you’re making excuses for him.”
“I’m not.” I leaned against the car as Matt used his key fob to unlock the doors. “I’ve been gay a long time, dealt with my share of assholes and bigots. I learned early on that people who hate me because of my sexuality will always hate me, and it’s not worth wasting the little mental energy I have left at the end of the day worrying about it or trying to change their minds. Guys like Chase really and truly are homophobic, as in afraid of gay people. He has his reasons, and I can choose to let his hatred control my life, or I can just brush it off and focus on what’s important.”
“Where’s Jax?” Matt slammed the car door shut and looked at me over the roof of his car. “That was some insightful shit. Where’s the guy who asked if I thought penguins have knees when we were driving over here?”
“I am a multifaceted gem with many sides.”
He snorted. “More like a turd someone polished up.”
“I’m not sure which is worse. You calling me a turd or the idea that somewhere, someone probably has polished one.”
“And now I’ll never say that again,” Matt slid into the car. “Did you ever look up if they have knees?”
I dropped into the passenger’s seat, pulled my phone out of my pocket, and did a quick search. “Got distracted.”
Matt cranked the car.
“They have knees.” I hit the power button to shut the phone down.
“Then why do they waddle?”
“I don’t know. The first search option just said ‘yes, they have knees.’”
“Do any animals not have knees?”
“I’d imagine ones without legs like snakes don’t have knees.”
“But what about animals with legs? Do you think they all have knees?”
“We’ve said the word knees so many times it doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.”
“I’m going to ask Eli next time I see him. This is something he’d probably know.”
“Did you ever ask him if they made a decision about Pluto being a planet?”
“I did. But I made the mistake of asking when Finn was around. Beck and I spent the next ten minutes sitting there and nodding while they went full space nerd and started talking about stuff I couldn’t even begin to understand.”
“So, is it?”
“No clue.”
“Can you drop me off at the dorms?” I asked as we came up on College street.
“Yeah, sure.” He signaled to take a left, shooting me a strange look. “You going to come over later?”
“Not tonight. I have a test I need to cram for.”
“Okay. No problem.”
The drive to my building was silent, and I didn’t like the tight-lipped smile Matt gave me when I climbed out of the car.
I did have a big test in the morning, but that wasn’t the reason I wanted a night alone.
Matt and I had spent nearly every night together since Christmas break. I loved it, and not just because of the sex. I slept better when Matt was beside me, and I loved that he was the first thing I saw when I woke up. It made every day just a little bit brighter.
The lines between bromance and dating were dangerously blurred and had been for a long time.
The season started on Friday. We’d agreed that this would end when it got in the way of baseball. I’d assumed that meant when the season started. That way we could get our focus back and put it where it belonged: on the game.
But now that the time had come, I wasn’t ready to let it go.
Or rather, I wasn’t ready to let him go.
Distractedly I swiped my ID and made my way through the building. When I was finally in my room, I collapsed onto my bed and pulled my cap down over my eyes.
The opening bars of “Summer of ’69” blasted out of my phone speaker. I grinned and dug it out of my pocket.
“Yo,” I answered.
“Yo?” Damon laughed. “Is that how they talk at your fancy school?”
“Says the guy who got a full ride to U of T.”
“What can I say? I’m brilliant.”
“And so humble.”
“Why be humble when I can be honest?”
I chuckled and settled on my bed. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“You’ve been a bit distant lately. Figured I’d call to check in.”
“Yeah.” I winced. “Lots going on.”
“Is it the season?”
“No. Not really. I feel good about the team and our chances.”
“But…”
“Just some stupid drama.”
“Someone on your team being a douche canoe?”
“Yeah. Same guy I told you about. We got into it in the showers—”
“Imma need you to clarify that because my brain is going places.”
I snort-laughed. “He said something stupid. I said something back. It escalated to him being a dick, and our captain marched him out of there like a toddler and made him go to Coach for a time-out.”
“Damn, sorry, my man. I know how much you hate when that happens.”
“I sound so ungrateful, but yeah, I do hate it. I’m lucky as fuck that I have a captain and a coach who are so willing to go to bat for me—”
He snickered.
“Shut up,” I said, my voice heavy with affection and fondness. “I’m just saying I’m lucky, and it makes me feel like an ungrateful bitch that it bothers me.”
“Being singled out for who you’re attracted to sucks. You’re a private person. You don’t like talking about yourself or people knowing about you. Not beyond what you choose to share. Having your sexuality brought to the forefront like that triggers all those repressed emotions.”
“You need to lay off the psych classes.”
“Am I wrong?”
“You’re not completely right.”
“But I’m not completely wrong either.”
“No.”
“So what else is bothering you?”
“That’s all.”
“Liar.”
“Not lying.”
“Fibber.”
“Not doing that either.”
“Denier.”
“How many more synonyms you got?”
“Enough to outlast you.”
“Ugh, you’re annoying.”
“Only because I’m right,” he singsonged.
“What about you?” I asked, hoping to distract him. “How’s T dot?”
“Nobody calls Toronto that.”
“I do.”
“Nobody else does.”
“Well, they’re missing out. But names aside, how’re things?”
“Good.” He made a sound like he was getting comfortable.
“Are you still thinking about staying in Ontario after grad?”
“Depends. I miss living in paradise. I like Toronto, but the winters here suck ass. And the fall and spring aren’t all that awesome. And the summers are too hot.”
“So you basically hate it all year?”
“There are about three weeks in the fall that are nice.” He laughed. “But cost-wise, the city is on par with Van. If I’m making a choice based on that, then why would I stay where the air hurts my face all winter?”
“So you’d move to Vancouver and not back to Victoria?”
“Not a lot of jobs in Vic. Not good ones at least. And the housing market is just as nuts as it is in Van. Plus, the ferry makes it easy to visit.”
“Makes sense. You gotta go where your future is.”
“So, what else is bothering you?”
“How’s your sister?”
“Stop changing the subject.”
Damon was the only person on the planet I could talk to about this. Not only was he one of my best friends, but he also understood baseball and just how much of a clusterfuck this entire situation was.
“Matt and I have been messing around.”
“Wow. I was not expecting that. So he bats for your team, or is he a switch hitter?”
I snickered at the analogy. “He’s a switch hitter. But then again, technically, so am I.”
“Stop bragging, you braggart,” he grumbled.
Back in our junior year, Damon and I had made a bet to see who could get better stats batting left-handed. We’d both learned to switch hit when we were kids, but he didn’t have my level of coordination, and my stats had blown his out of the water.
“You’re just salty I kicked your ass.”
“You’re changing the subject again.”
“Things are just messed up. We started this as a way to blow off steam.” My stomach clenched at the lie.
“That’s not your style. You’d never jeopardize your friendship or baseball just to blow off steam.”
“Matt only recently figured out that guys did it for him.” The tightness in my chest intensified until my ribs ached, and I couldn’t pull in a full breath.
“Okay,” he said softly, encouraging me to keep talking if I wanted to.
“Someone dared us to kiss at a party. I guess that was the catalyst for his bi awakening or whatever.”
“That’s usually the best way to tell. If you lock lips with a dude and like it, then you like guys.”
“You speak like you know from experience.”
“I experimented.”
“Say what? You never told me this.”
“Yeah, I did. I told you I kissed Jesse at a party and wasn’t into it.”
“You never told me Jesse was a dude! I thought it was short for Jessica.”
“That’s what you get for assuming.” He snickered. “Jesse was a bust, but there might have been potential with Myron.”
“Myron? Who the fuck is Myron?”
“A guy from my program. We made out and touched each other’s dicks one night after studying. The kissing wasn’t bad, but his dick did nothing for me. Like playing with a squishy stick.”
“I have so many questions… but really? A squishy stick?”
“That’s what it felt like.”
“I would have remembered if you’d told me that.”
“I think I was going to but forgot to actually do it.”
“That sounds like you.”
“Stop distracting me! Back to you and Matt.”
“It’s just gotten complicated. I mean, we’re just buds having a bromance.”
“A bromance?” he asked skeptically.
“Yeah, like two bros who mess around, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“How many times have you two had sex?”
“I don’t know. Lots?”
“How long have you been sleeping together?”
“A few months. Why?”
“Because what you’re describing isn’t a bromance. Not anymore.”
“That’s all it is. All it can be.”
“You said it’s complicated. Why? Because of the season starting?”
“Yeah. We’ve been keeping it quiet because our team is full of gossipmongers, but also because we work so closely together. People already treat us like a single unit, and if we fuck up the team dynamic, then the whole season could be a bust.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You single-handedly decided that your entire season rests on your shoulders. That you and Matt and your-not-a-bromance have the power to destroy the team.”
“How would you have reacted if you’d found out two guys on our team were fucking?”
“I wouldn’t have cared as long as they kept their drama off the field.”
“Fine. But that’s you. What do you think guys like Chase will think?”
“Probably a whole lot of homophobic bullshit.”
“Exactly.”
“But Chase is only one guy. What about the rest of your team? You’ve never mentioned anyone else being a dick.”
“They accept it. Some of them genuinely don’t care. But it’s different. They might be cool with me hooking up with guys, but they’d never be okay with me hooking up with Matt.”
“So you’re a mind reader?” he asked.
“What?”
“Again, you’ve just decided that everyone will think that way when you don’t actually know.”
“You really need to lay off the psych classes.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No. But you’re not right.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no way everyone on the team would be cool with us if they found out.”
“No, but some of them might.”
“Some might,” I conceded.
“What about the other starters? Not to be a dick, but who gives a fuck if some rookie fielder has issues with you. It’s not like you’re buds or need to work together. Worry about your friends and the guys you’re on the field with. They’re the ones who matter.”
“I just don’t like making waves.”
“I know. But you’re also a self-sacrificing champ, and it sounds like you’re doing it again.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve given up a lot in your life, all for the sake of baseball. I’m not saying you had a choice. I feel for the position you’re in, and I know I could never truly understand what it’s like to be you. But there are things in life that matter more than ball.”
“I’m so close to it finally happening,” I rasped, my throat dry and tight. “I’ve spent the last ten years working toward this season.”
“I know. But what about your life off the field? Are you happy?”
“Sure.”
“When are you happy?”
“When I’m with…”
“Exactly,” he said softly.
“I get what you’re saying, but loving him doesn’t change the fact that we’re teammates.”
“Maybe not. But if you’re going to fall in love with someone, isn’t your best friend the perfect person?”
“Maybe in the real world. But not in ours.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Going public isn’t an option. I can’t end things. Not yet. But we also can’t keep going like this. It’s getting harder and harder to switch from boyfriend to bestie mode. Every time we’re out together, I have to be hyperaware of how I’m looking at him, how I touch him. It fucking sucks, and it’s stressing both of us out to the point where I’m worried it’ll fuck up our dynamic on the field.”
“Did you hear yourself call him your boyfriend?”
I raked my hand down my face. “Yeah. We slipped into that a long-ass time ago.”
“Does he think of you that way?”
“No clue. We fuck, but we don’t talk about it.”
“Maybe you need to have that conversation.”
“It wouldn’t matter if we did. It wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I was reading about the phenom at UW.” He seamlessly switched to talking about baseball. Damon could always tell when I was shutting down. “Is Matt worried?”
I recounted Matt’s theory to him.
“That boy is smart. I would never have thought of that, but he’s right.”
“It’ll be interesting to see just how right he is. It’s the kid’s first game back after injury, and he’s going to be facing a lefty pitcher on our turf for at least six innings.”
Damon hummed thoughtfully, and I settled back on my pillow. Now that we were talking ball and not about Matt, I could relax and focus on catching up with my friend.
