Page 86 of Sliding into Love
"First, thank you all for coming tonight. I know you've all been working incredibly hard, and I wanted to do something to show how much that's appreciated. This team—" I gesture around the room "—isn't just about what happens on the field. It's about the relationships we build, the support we show each other, the community we create."
I can see some of the players nodding, a few of the partners smiling.
"So tonight, there's no agenda, no speeches beyond this one, no expectations. Just good food, good company, and hopefully some good stories. Eat, drink, laugh, enjoy yourselves. You've earned it."
A round of applause breaks out, and then people start moving toward their seats. The serving staff begins bringing out platters of pasta, chicken parmesan, eggplant rollatini. It’s enough food to feed an army, which is basically what we have here.
I end up seated between Kenneth and Bellamy, with Finn, Bishop, and Atlas across from us. Gillies is a few seats down, already engaged in an animated conversation with Naymon about batting techniques while simultaneously loading his plate with an alarming amount of food.
"That idiot is going to make himself sick," I say.
"His metabolism defies science," Kenny counters. "I've seen him eat an entire pizza before a game and then run the bases like he's being chased."
"Youth," Bell sighs dramatically. "Remember when we could do that?"
I shake my head. "Speak for yourself. I never had that kind of metabolism."
"That's because you were too busy being perfect at everything else," my brother shoots back, but there's affection in his tone.
"I wasn't perfect."
"You were valedictorian, captain of the debate team, and managed three different businesses before you graduated college. That's pretty close to perfect."
Kenneth looks between us, clearly amused. "Should I be taking notes? Learning all of Royce's secrets?"
"Oh, I have stories," Bell says, his eyes lighting up. "So many stories."
"Absolutely not! Whatever you're thinking, the answer is no."
"I wasn't going to tell him about the time you got stuck in that?—"
"BELLAMY BELLPORT!!."
"—tree trying to rescue that cat, even though the fire department specifically told you not to?—"
"I was twelve! And Jake would have climbed if I hadn’t."
"—and then the cat clawed your chest so bad you needed stitches and a rabies shot."
Kenneth fights between laughing and looking worried for me. He's failing at the former. "Please tell me there are pictures of them in the tree."
"There are absolutely pictures," Finn confirms. "Several. Mama B has them in an album."
"She does not," I say to my brother-in-law, terrified he might be telling the truth.
My brother jumps in to defend his husband. "He’s not lying. I’ve got a framed copy in my office. It's one of my favorites."
I groan, dropping my head into my hands. "I hate you."
"You love me," Bell corrects. "And admit it, you were adorable up in that tree, crying because you were afraid of heights."
"I wasn't crying?—"
"You were absolutely crying."
Kenneth's hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently. When I look at him, he's grinning. "For what it's worth, I think twelve-year-old you sounds very brave. Misguided, but brave."
"Thank you," I say pointedly, glaring at my brother.
