Page 10 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

“Hey, in your head today, Mendoza?” Cole snaps his workout towel at my shoulder, but he’s too slow, and I manage to snag it, wrap it around my fist, and jerk it from him.

“Just thinking about all the ways you suck,” I joke, throwing his towel toward the trash bin. It almost goes in but slides to the floor instead.

“Ha! Yeah, good one.” His wry tone prompts me to get up from the bench press and dodge his next incoming towel snap.

“Sucker, I wanted your spot,” he says, taking over my bench while wearing a cocky-ass grin.

“Good luck lifting that,” I say. He eyes the plates and does the math before rolling his eyes and getting up to change them out.

Cole’s an outfielder, which means he can run for miles and is probably one of two guys out here who can beat my forty time. But he can’t outlift me. Only guys who can do that are Coach and our catcher, Dom.

“You psyched for Friday?” Cole asks as he ducks his head and positions himself under the bar. I move to spot him. He’s still lifting too heavy. His damn ego is going to get him hurt. Like I should talk.

“Yeah. Hopefully I don’t hit like shit,” I grumble. His face muscles strain and his cheeks turn red as he lowers the weight toward his chest. I keep my hands close.

“Get out of your head. I know that’s what you were in here thinking about,” he huffs out once the weight is up again. He grits his teeth and begins to lower the bar again, my hands inches away.

“The draft kinda does that . . . takes over your mind?” I explain. Cole has no interest in playing beyond this year. He’s already set for grad school. Dude’s going to be a dentist. Maybe he has life figured out.

“You’re entering a whole new era for stress,” he grunts out, nodding for me to help him slide the bar back to the rack.

“That your personal best?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he pants.

“Ha ha!” We slap hands and I grab hold of his to help him to his feet. “Glad my misery can give you a boost.”

Cole lets out a heavy laugh as he pulls the safety clip free from the bar to add my weight back on. I laugh along with him, but after a few seconds he’s still smirking and shaking his head.

“You find my stress amusing?” I slide a weight on my end, then rest my arms on the end of the bar.

“I don’t know, man. Just sayin’ . . . things didn’t look so stressful last night at the basketball game. I didn’t know you and Nikki were finally?—”

“That?” I cut him off before his gossipy mouth goes too far. “Nah, we’re good friends. That’s all. I was just unloading some of my stress to her is all.”

I wave my hand at him then put the clip back on my side of the bar. I straddle the bench for a second and clear out my lungs with a massive exhale before positioning myself under the bar. Cole steps in to spot me, but I don’t need his help for this. I’ve got forty more pounds to add, at least, before this lift gets hard.

“Well, you looked pretty friendly is all. And you know what? Why not? You ever think about hitting that?”

My eyes roll to meet his and I glare at him with absolute laser beams.

“Nobody hits Nikki,” I clarify, making sure to emphasize his poor word choice with my lifted brow.

He makes the right choice and looks away as he utters, “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean it like that. I get too comfortable with my words sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, go ahead and forget that term. For all women. Not just Nikki.” I start my lift and grunt as I push up hard and fast, meeting his eyes again. “But especially when it comes to Nikki.”

I hold the weight with straight arms until he nods and says, “Understood.”

I knock out eight reps in about half the time it took him, then swivel my head from under the bar so I can sit up.

“That’s the thing, though. What I was saying, I mean? About you and Nikki?” I’m not following him, but if he doesn’t drop my best friend from our conversation soon I might have to knock his teeth in.

“And what is the thing? Choose your words carefully,” I say, pointing a finger at him as I stand and move across the room to grab my water bottle. I like getting in here about forty minutes early for weights. I like to have my space to do my work before everyone’s in my way. Sure, I get in twice the workout, but also . . . I get in twice the workout.

“I mean, that’s why it looked like maybe you two were finally getting together. It wouldn’t be so crazy, you know. You’re always like her big, bad bodyguard around everyone else.”

I spit out half my sip of water with a hard laugh.

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