Page 17 of Sliding into Love
There’s a stillness that comes after they speak. I turn away from watching the team to see what they’re doing. It’s then I find Royce watching me with a look so full of…something.
Before I can ask, the moment is interrupted by a bucket of water pouring over Royce’s head. I jump back as a reflex, not wanting to get soaked as well.
Clark’s laughter, along with some of the others on the team, rings out around us. “Whoops,” he says, voice completely void of anything resembling an authentic apology. “I figured you would need to cool down after spending all of practice with us.”
Royce slowly climbs to their feet. I watch with trepidation, not sure how this will go. Will they finally confront Clark for being an ass? Or will this play out like every other time—with them leaving as others laugh at their expense?
“Thanks for thinking of me so much. I’ll be sure to explain to Ms. Wu that the camera was damaged because you were trying to be a kind spirit. She’ll reach out to your parents, no doubt, to get the cost of repairs covered.”
My jaw drops at their sassy rebound. It’s the first time I’ve heard them talk back so boldly.
Unfortunately, I think their words only anger Clark further. Not because his family can’t pay for the damages. More like his parents will probably make him work off the expenses, which will surely cut into his obsessive baseball training schedule.
Sucks to be him.
It’s a fight not to reach out to Royce. I’m not sure what I’d say or do if I got any closer. I can’t very well walk them back to the school and offer to help them clean up. It’s too creepy. Besides, leaving with them would only add fuel to the fire that is Clark Greer’s asshole-ery.
Royce looks back at me one last time before turning away. I watch them trudge across the field with regret. What Iwouldn’t give to not be this version of Kenneth Meyer. Maybe in another life I’ll get the chance to talk to Royce without all the expectations from those around us. Maybe then I could tell them how much I think of them and how I wish I could take them out on a date.
It’s a silly dream. One I shouldn’t entertain.
As Coach calls for us to hit the showers, I allow myself one more second to envision this make-believe world. If I ever get the chance for a do-over, then I’m going to give it my all. Royce deserves to be worshipped. I think I’d be damn good at it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROYCE
“First thingyou need to know is that there are bases on the field,” Jake says, his voice slow as if he were talking to a preschool class. “See how it makes a pretty diamond shape.”
He holds up an illustration of the Jays' field and points to each base individually. I roll my eyes as Finn and Timothy snicker from across the table.
“I don't need to be taught like a kindergartner, brother dear. I merely asked for your help since you were so good at learning hockey.”
Jake scoffs. “Yeah, but I studied it for years. It is my favorite sport. Of course, I acquired a hockey team. You just decided you liked baseball out of the blue.”
I hold up my hand. “I didn't say I liked it.”
Finn’s hands slap against his cheeks. “Oh no! You don't like it at all? Maybe you shouldn't be the manager. I bet I could do it. Daddy would totally let me, right?”
He whips his head to Timothy, who stares wide-eyed. The other man nods, then stops and shakes his head. “I don't know that your Daddy would let you do that, Finn. I think that Royce is the best fit for this.”
I dip my head. “Thank you. I appreciate your confidence in me. I am a capable business owner.”
My tone at the last part is directed to my brother.
Jake grumbles, then flips through several pages of this notebook he's created. I should have known when it said Baseball 101 on the front that he was going to take this too far. When I called him a couple days ago and asked for a quick rundown of everything to refresh my memory since life had been chaotic, I expected him to maybe want to drink a beer and sit around and talk.
Instead, he recruited his assistant and our other brother-in-law to come along for this adventure. I would consider it a torture session.
Jake Bellport, my younger brother, is a handful. For as long as I can remember, which is his entire existence, he has been mischievous. If there was trouble to get up to, he was getting into it. I'd often catch myself in scenarios with him. Sometimes just to spend time with him and other times because I was bored out of my mind. Being smarter than a lot of the people around you often led to idle hands. Though we're not religious, I’d heard about the whole ‘devil's handiwork’ thing.
I digress.
Focusing on Jake, I see he's finally stopping on a page. "Aha!" he shouts, holding the image out to me. “This is probably one of the most important pieces. It's the roster for the team. You're going to want to get to know these guys like the back of your hand.”
I nod, pulling paper closer to me. Jake lets it go, and I run my eyes over the page. “I actually already know quite a bit of this. Kenny keeps a detailed list in his office.”
“Kenny,” Timothy says, his voice curious.
