“Calm down,” Bree tries to placate his protective side.
“No.” His eyes meet mine. “Tell me. Because that’s bullshit. He should be strutting around like a goddamn king, telling everyone he’s lucky enough to have you.”
“It’s not like that.” I understand why he’s upset, but it really doesn’t bother me. I’m not interested in having anyone else in my business. “His family isn’t like ours, okay? His friends . . .”
“I know his friends. They’re a bunch of shitheads. But that doesn’t mean he should hide you.”
“He’s not out, Fletch. And you can’t out him. That’s no one else’s job to do. Okay? You can’t say a word.”
He’s pissed. I know he is. He shakes his head. “He’s not out? But he’s with you?”
I shrug. “It’s complicated. We aren’t really together, okay? We’re fooling around.”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Bree quickly interjects.
“He’s going to college on the West Coast. I’m staying here. There’s no need to blow our lives up for . . .” I feel my irritation growing because I don’t know what we are, and I still don’t really know what I am. “For nothing.”
“You aren’t nothing, though, Rhett.” He may be big and bulky now—packed muscle and insane height—but I still see the young kid I befriended all those years ago. “Are you . . .” He looks frustrated as he searches for the words. “Are you out?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what I am. I just know I like him, and he’s the first and only person I’ve ever been interested in that way.”
“You shouldn’t have to come out anyway if you don’t want to. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you just say, ‘I’m dating this person,’ and that be it? Not ‘I’m gay’ or ‘I’m bi’ or whatever. It shouldn’t matter.”
I smile because that’s all I had to do with both of them. They didn’t even blink when I told them I’ve been fooling around with a guy, and I doubt Blair and Rhys will either.
“Okay. I won’t say a word. But I don’t like him hiding you away.”
“He’s not. He’s really not,” I defend. “He asked me here. He sat with us at lunch. I’m not his dirty little secret, Fletch. His world is just different from mine.”
Fletcher seems to let that sink in. “Okay. You like him, so I’ll give him a chance. And I’m not saying a word to anyone about you two fucking.”
I shove him playfully, and he laughs, and that’s all there is to it. The rest of the game we stand at the fence and watch them play, joking about stupid shit and talking about Fletch leaving for college and Blair spoiling Bree when we’re gone.
When it’s over, and our team has won, Grayson wastes no time walking out of the gate, straight toward us. “Well, well, well. What happened to you having to work?”
He’s smug and so damn good-looking, I have an overwhelming urge to pull his big, sweaty body against mine, but I keep my feet planted where they are. “My boss let me leave a bit early,” I play it off, but he grins with a knowing look I want to kiss off his face.
“Couldn’t resist seeing me in my uniform?” he teases, and I feel Fletcher watching him, probably surprised at the blatant flirting.
“You got me.”
“Lancaster!” Shit. I feel Bree and Fletcher freeze along with me as Josh Potter makes his way over to us, his voice loud and booming as he wraps an arm around Grayson’s body. “You coming out with us?”
Grayson doesn’t hesitate. “Nope.”
“What?” It’s like he just realizes we’re there, and his lecherous eyes land on Bree. “Oh. I see.”
Grayson rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else.
“You going out to have a different kind of party then, Lancaster?” He waggles his eyes at Bree, who looks like she’s about to nutpunch him.
“Yup. You got me.” Grayson uses my words to appease his friend, who ruffles his hair and then laughs maniacally as he walks off from us.
He shouts something like “I want all the details” over his shoulder before rejoining the other meatheads, and all three of us land our questioning gazes on Grayson, who just lifts his big shoulders and tries to wave it off. “He thinks I have a thing with Bree.”
“What?” she chokes out in disgust. “Why?”
“Yeah.” Fletch takes a step forward. “Why would he think that?”
“Stop.” I move between Fletcher and Grayson, but I look directly at Grayson and ask more calmly, “Why?”
“When I was staring at you, he assumed I was staring at Bree.” My lips twitch with a smile I’m not proud of, hearing he was staring at me.
Fletch, though, doesn’t seem amused. “And you didn’t correct him?”
Grayson’s eyes move to Bree, looking sheepish. “I thought if I let him think that, maybe he’d back off you.”
Bree folds her arms and scoffs, “As if I need the big, bad Grayson Lancaster the third to protect me.”
Grayson looks to me for backup, and I can’t let him squirm. I wrap my arm around Bree and pull her into a side hug, kissing her temple. “We all know you’re a badass. Though I can’t say I hate the idea of that guy finally backing off.”
“He should back off because I’ve told him to, not because another guy staked his claim.”
“I can tell him we aren’t together, Bree.” Grayson looks adorably afraid of my best friend—and he should be, to a point. Bree is beautifully fierce, but I know he did it out of kindness and not to be a jackass. That’s just who Grayson is.
She doesn’t look as annoyed now as she sizes him up. “No. But please don’t talk about me behind my back. I don’t need anyone to protect me, now or ever.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Hell, I’ll pay you to be my bodyguard right now. I have no doubt you can handle your own.”
She laughs at that and shakes her head. “Not even you could afford me.”
He laughs, relieved. “I’m sorry. I swear, I don’t give him details he begs for or say anything about you. I just can’t seem to keep my eyes off your brother, and you’re usually right next to him.”
She grins at that, and Fletcher makes a gagging noise that I punch his shoulder for. She grabs Fletcher’s arm. “Come on. Let’s leave the lovebirds to it.” She winks at me, and I send her a silent thank-you.
They leave, and I turn to Grayson. “You going to a party?”
He shakes his head. “Only if it’s a private party.”
“If you say ‘in my pants,’ I swear I’ll never let you in them again.” He laughs, and it’s beautiful. Everything about him is so damn beautiful.
“I need to shower and change.”
I give him another once-over, looking at those tight pants that are seriously doing it for me. “Yeah, I don’t mind you wearing that. Just saying.” My shoulder kicks up with a shrug, and he steps a little closer to me.
The crowd has all but cleared out. Still, I know we need to be careful, and he must, too, because he keeps a fair distance. “Uh-oh. You’re into the whole baseball thing now, huh?”
“I have no idea what you’ve done to me.” I look back toward the nearly empty parking lot. “And my ride left, so I thought maybe you could take me home.”
He nods, his gaze now filled with heat, which sends a needy shiver down my spine. “Okay. Let’s go.”
The impulse to grab his hand is strong as we walk to his car, but I don’t. I fight it.
I can’t help wondering if he has the same urge.
THIRTY-TWO
He came to my game. He actually fucking showed up, and I can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. Not even after we walk into his apartment, and he closes the door behind us. “You were at my game,” I stupidly state the obvious.
He turns toward me, a gleam in his eyes. “I was.”
“You said you wouldn’t go.”
He shrugs, pushing his fingers through his hair. “It seemed like it was important to you.”
A lump forms in my throat at his words. He picked up on that. I thought I’d played it cool, but I guess not. I move to him, gripping the top of his jeans and pulling him closer to me. “It was. I loved seeing you out there.”
He’s grinning smugly now, but I can also tell he’s not used to these kind of emotions. Neither am I. “You weren’t so bad out on the field.” One hand moves up his back and to his neck.
“Not so bad, huh? I hit a home run.”
“Good job?” He says it like a question, which makes me laugh before I bring my lips to his, crashing against them with need and heat he meets head-on. It’s urgent and feral as we rip each other’s clothes off. I should probably worry about being sweaty from the game, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as his fingers slide through my hair and his nails dig into my scalp.