by E. M. Moore
His gaze softens as he looks at me. “They’re together, but they shouldn’t be. They haven’t been happy in a long time. In fact, they haven’t been happy since I was born.” He takes another bite and gazes out the window in front of us. “My parents do things just to piss one another off, and they don’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. But then when we’re out at some Senatorial thing, it’s all smiles and cheek kisses, and sometimes I just want to tell the whole world what it’s really like living in the Ivy household.”
“What’s it really like?”
He raises an eyebrow. Surprise colors his face like he didn’t expect me to care, and even though this is the second question I’ve asked him in a row, he actually answers. “It sucks. Think stiff family dinners when you know your mom just got back from vacation with her boyfriend, and your dad is screwing his secretary. It’s layers and layers of lies, so nothing feels sacred anymore.”
I reach out to touch his thigh. “I’m so sorry, Sloan.” At least I haven’t had to deal with that yet. Neither one of my parents are seeing anyone else for the time being.
He looks down at my touch. I try to pull it away, but he puts his hand on mine, keeping it there. “Don’t.” After a minute, he says, “My turn. What’s your end goal if you get on the team?”
“To help the team.”
“No, I want to know what your goal is in trying out for the team.”
I narrow my eyes, but I’m pretty sure I know what he’s getting at. “I want to start.”
“You think you can?” he asks, like he expected me to answer that way.
“That’s two questions,” I tell him, not wanting to get into this. Like he said, they’re all best friends. They also all saw Lake cheat and none of them said anything.
“You owe me one,” he says.
I sigh. “Yes,” I finally say. “I think I can.”
His hand squeezes mine. He doesn’t say whether he thinks I can or not, but I haven’t asked him either. Yet. “Do you think I can?”
He releases his hold. “Don’t ask me that.”
“A truth for a truth, Sloan.”
“You’re asking me to say something against my friends, and I won’t.”
“But I’m not, I’m asking—” I cut myself short. I have my answer. He doesn’t want to answer because his answer would be that he thinks I can beat Lake. I want to smile, but the tension coming off Sloan now is off the charts. He’s not amused by any of this. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
I pick at my food, eating half of it before Sloan responds. “Did you really like Ryan that year at camp?”
The color drains from my face. “You mean the year you guys humiliated me in front of everybody? The year Ryan pretended to like me back, but come to find out he only wanted to throw me off my game so Lake could win Most Valuable Shooting Guard? The year he told everybody how sad it was that I kept following him around? Yeah, I liked him. When is everyone going to stop doing Lake’s dirty work for him?”
“Is that your question?”
I glare back at him. “No, because I’m guessing I know the answer to it already.” People like Lake never change.
“Ask me if Ryan liked you back.”
I scoff. “No, I know that answer. I want to know why you guys hate me. How’s that for a question?”
Sloan shoves the rest of his chicken strip in his mouth and continues to chew while he wipes his fingers off on a napkin. When he’s done, he says, “We don’t hate you, so I can’t answer that question.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I already told you you don’t know what you’re talking about when it comes to the Ballers. Stop trying to figure it out.”
“Whatever. Maybe I don’t care anymore.”
“False.”
“It wasn’t a question.”
He shrugs. “Sounded like it to me. I know a lie when I hear one. You care, Tessa. I don’t know how you still do, to be honest. I ask myself that a lot. I’d ask you why, except I don’t even think you can tell me why you still care even after the things we’ve done to you.” He reaches his hand up and tugs on a lock of my hair that’s near my shoulders. The gesture is almost intimate in the way he stares at me while he does it. It’s just so Sloan. Confident. Teasing.
My mouth goes dry. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you now.” He slides out of the booth. “Sorry, Dale. I don’t want to play anymore.” He turns and walks up to the front of the restaurant, bringing out a card to pay for our meal. While he does, I sit back in my seat and think about what just happened. Apparently, Alec isn’t the only one who likes to be cryptic.
24
The next day, I’m still thinking about the texts I got from Alec while Sloan and I were at the sandwich shop. He apologized to me. One, for telling the Ballers every intimate detail of our encounter, and two, for the fact that he’s going to be very busy over the next few days. His last text still sticks out to me. I’ll be thinking about you.
I want to stay mad at him, but it’s useless. In fact, it’s hard to stay mad at any of them right now. Today has been pretty good. Sloan has taken it upon himself to walk me to my classes. He even sat with Dawn and I during lunch for a little while, completely blowing off one of the girls that usually sits with them when she made a snotty comment toward me. He and David talked sports, mostly, but it was nice to have him there.
Sloan and I understand one another more now. Or at least it feels like we’re getting there.
When school ends, I meet up with Shawn, Matt, and the Ballers for Alec’s first playoff game at home. They’ll play one home, two away, then two home. Best of five games moves on. My days will be filled with baseball for the next week if not longer. I don’t know what Alec is going to do if they win this playoff series. It’ll directly affect tryouts, though I doubt he’ll lose his spot on the team or anything. The Ballers wouldn’t have that. He’ll just have to talk to Coach Bradley about it.
Matt and Shawn stand close to one another just outside the entrance to the baseball field. I walk up to them. “Dale, man,” Shawn says. “That was an amazing game yesterday.”
“Thanks,” I tell them. I’ve already put my bookbag in my car, so I just have my cell phone in my pocket. “Listen, if you guys want to do some training in the mornings before school, I’m down. Tryouts are coming up quick.”
I’m saying this for Matt, but I don’t want to single him out. He looks up. “I think I’ll actually take you up on that,” he says.
“Great. We can meet at the track and run laps, sprint intervals, that kind of thing. Maybe over the weekend when we’re not at a baseball game, you guys can come over. I got that court you wanted to see.”
Sloan walks up behind me and drops his hand around my shoulder. He squeezes me there before he says, “Are you inviting these boys to your house?”
“To train,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows.
Shawn cuts in. “I’m down with track training. Tomorrow morning?”
“I’ll text you guys.”
Ryan’s voice calls out. “Let’s head in.” We’re all wearing a variation of blue and gold, our school colors. Sloan holds back on my shoulder, so everyone walks in front of us. “Don’t get too close to the recruits, Dale.”
“What do you mean?”
His hot breath hits my ear. “I mean, the Ballers are kind of possessive.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m training with them, not fucking them.”
Sloan leans into me, his lips barely caressing my cheek as he says, “I do enjoy that mouth of yours.”
A tingle of excitement winds its way up my spine.
His hand moves up the outer seam of my jeans, stopping just shy of my ass. “I also love that you’re dressed like any of us, but you’re still way hotter than the girls who flounce around in their tiny RHS skirts.” He nods toward the girl who’s been hanging around Ryan lately. Her skirt is so short, you can
practically see her underwear. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it several times. It’s funny how the same girls come around over and over again, and it seems like the minute one of the Ballers brings one in, she makes the rounds with all of them.
Well, except Hayes. Hayes is still ice cold. He’s currently walking up the bleachers, head down, hands shoved in his pockets. If he weren’t so light on his feet, he’d probably look cumbersome or awkward. He’s not. He’s like a beautiful giant. I wonder how he kisses. Actually, it would be cute to see him bend over and a girl have to raise to her tiptoes just so their lips can meet.
“Hayes is a good guy,” Sloan says, following my gaze.
I tear my eyes away from him as we start our ascent up the bleachers. “I like him,” I say honestly. “Maybe because he doesn’t talk nearly as much as the rest of you.”
“Ouch, Daddy’s girl.”
I roll my eyes at the nickname he’s been calling me. I can’t directly tell him it’s not true because it is. I got a text from Dad just that morning telling me he’ll see me over the weekend. Hopefully, we can get some playing time in together like old times.
When everyone else has taken their spot in the stands, Sloan grabs my hand. Suddenly, my heart is in my throat. I’m worried this will be like the football game all over again where I’m forced to sit next to them, but not actually be a part of them, like the true outcast they always try to make me feel like.
“Sit with me,” Sloan says. He pulls me over until he slides in next to Hayes. I go to sit next to him, but at the last second, he pulls me onto his lap. I yelp a little, startled. “You like that?” he asks, his hazel eyes shining.
I try to get up, but he’s got a lock on my hips. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Sitting you right where I want you.”
“Please,” I say, letting him know I think he’s full of it. A few days ago, they didn’t even want me near them.
“Come on,” Sloan says, his lips pressing into my ear. “You don’t want to be left out again, do you?”
My body goes rigid. I try to get up, but he keeps holding me down. Ryan and Lake are staring at us now. Their girls are, too. Lake, though, look like he’s holding back a laugh. The joke’s on me. I knew it was.
But then Sloan pulls me in tight. “Truth for truth. Ask me if I want you on my lap.”
The girls all start laughing now. I don’t even want to look up at Matt and Shawn to see what they’re thinking. “You’re messing with me. Stop it.”
“Ask me.”
“You’re mental, you know that?”
“God damnit, Tessa. Ask me if I want you on my lap.”
I lock eyes with him. Below us, the baseball players have just run out onto the field, calling everyone’s attention away for the moment. His eyes are pleading with mine, so I ask, “Do you want me on your lap?”
He closes his eyes for a second, takes a deep breath, then nods. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you here.” His hands loosen, allowing me the freedom to move if I want to. Then, his right hand travels down my thigh and up again, stopping just in the center to give me a quick squeeze. “Truth.”
I lick my lips. Even if this is a joke, I’m going to enjoy it. Sloan’s hands settle around me as I turn toward the field. We have a good view of the first base line from here, but beyond that, I actually feel like I’m one of them. That thought is truly ridiculous. That’s the thing about emotions though, you can’t make yourself stop feeling them even though you know how dumb it is.
The game against the current number one team in the state is intense. You can definitely tell it’s playoff season because it seems like Alec and the team have to fight for each point they score. Then, our pitcher loses it in the first few innings, so he has to be pulled early. It’s still a close game though. We have to win here. Losing at home just plain sucks. Trust me.
Sloan only leaves once to get us some snacks. When he comes back, I pat my leg for him to sit. Amazingly enough, this draws a laugh out of Hayes. Sloan, too, laughs, but he tells me to get my pretty ass up. When I do, his arms surround me again, holding our popcorn in one hand and a drink in the other. He also got Hayes a drink, which he hands off to him while I take the water from his hand and gulp some down.
Alec is up to bat. He gets called out on strikes, but the last pitch was a great one. He should have no shame about that. When he’s coming off the field, I clap for him. He looks up and locks eyes with me. When he sees I’m on Sloan’s lap, his shoulders bunch. Sloan’s hands come around me tighter. Without another look, Alec slips into the dugout, and Sloan kisses the back of my neck, making all my nerve endings fire. “I think we just made big man jealous. I wonder how jealous we can make him.” His hand, half hidden by the popcorn box, rides up my thigh until he’s only millimeters away from my inseam.
“Sloan,” I say, my voice hard yet breathless at the same time.
His body hardens underneath me. “I need another truth, Daddy’s girl.”
I clamp down on my jaw. I want to wiggle, but at the same time, I don’t want him to know how much this is affecting me. If he were just a little higher.
“Would you enjoy it if I touched you right now?”
I let out a breath. “What kind of question is that?”
“You’re stalling.”
“I don’t want to play, Sloan.”
“I’ll answer the same question. Okay? I would enjoy the fuck out of it if I touched you right now.”
I draw in a shaky breath. I didn’t think voyeurism would be my thing, but to think that anyone could see us right now, it’s both frightening and exhilarating. In fact, Hayes can probably hear us, and he’s so fucking tall that he can probably see everything. “What about bro code?”
Sloan kisses my neck again, his soft lips a whisper against my skin. “The Ballers have their own set of codes.”
I know exactly what that means. Just like I thought. They share girls because they can. Because they all want whatever scrap the Ballers give them…and I’m becoming the same.
I stand, the popcorn in Sloan’s hand goes flying all over the people in front of us. The girl snaps her head around. Her lips twist. “Bitch.”
Sloan stands, his chest moving against my back. He steps out around me. “Watch your mouth.”
The girl’s eyes go wide. She stutters out an apology. The whole thing is just so messed up, I need to leave. I start down the aisle. “Tessa,” Sloan says.
I keep pushing. Ryan’s hand snakes out and grabs my wrist before I can leave. “You’re watching Alec. Sit here or not, but you’re not leaving. We support our teammates.”
I yank my hand from his grip. Dawn and David came in earlier. They’re sitting down a little ways and to our left. I’ll sit the rest of the game with them. It’s almost over anyway. When I slide in next to Dawn, she puts an arm around me. “What’s up?”
She’s been too busy with David to even notice I’d sat on Sloan Ivy’s lap pretty much the entire game. That’s fine though. I need someone like her to keep me away from all that.
RHS wins the game. Barely. Tomorrow, they have another game that’s only about twenty minutes away, and I’ll be expected to go.
I sit with Dawn and David to chat while everyone else leaves the stands. Sloan lingers at the fence near the entrance, but finally, he leaves, too, after slamming his fist into the chainlink. Afterward, my phone pings with multiple texts. One text from him, another from Alec. Sloan’s text is just a GIF of a puppy with sad eyes. I just shake my head and look at Alec’s next. I won. Do I get a congratulatory kiss?
I tell Dawn and David I have to head out, letting them think it has something to do with the recruits and the Ballers, when really, it has something to do with just one Baller. You really think you deserve it?
You tell me. I’ll meet you at your car if yes.
I walk the block toward where I parked my car on the street. I’m sure Alec knows I can’t park in the lot. When I get there, there’s a note under my
windshield wiper. It reads, “I think your answer would have been yes.”
I swallow. It’s from Sloan, obviously. I recognize his writing and from the fact that he’s the only one I’ve been having a back and forth with lately about answering questions. He asked me if I would have liked it if he touched me. The answer is yes. Maybe too much. Probably exactly as much as when Alec touched me. Is that crazy? Do I like both of them?
I see Alec come around the building and start his walk toward me. I get out of the car and lean against the door, my hands crossed in front of my chest. While he was in the locker room, I concocted a plan. My mom has yoga this evening. Afterward, her and some friends go to happy hour, which has often turned into longer than an hour since my dad left. The house is my own tonight, and I want company.
Alec drops his bag in the back as soon as he gets there. Then, he leans against the door alongside me. “Well?”
I turn my head. “Do you want to go to my house? I thought we could swim, work out your sore muscles.”
“There are other ways I’d like to work out my sore muscles.”
Heat pools in my belly. I hand him the keys, and he smirks. “Does this mean I’ll be getting a congratulatory kiss?”
“You’ll have to come over to find out.”
Alec doesn’t need directions as he winds the car up the hill and right into my driveway. When we get there, I tell him my mom’s at yoga and there are plenty of spare trunks if he wants to change into one or…
“Or?”
I bite my lip. “Or you can swim in your underwear,” I say, trying to seem calm about all this. “It’s all the same.”
“It’s all the same, huh? I think I’ll go in my boxer briefs then.”
My face heats. But isn’t that exactly what I wanted?
I open the door for him, and we walk inside. I tell him I’m going to grab us some snacks and that I’ll meet him out there when really, I’m going to change into my bikini, then grab some snacks and meet him out there.
