Page 30 of Triple Play

We shouldn’t.

No, we can’t. “Put me down,” I order.

Instantly, Felix releases my leg and I lower it to the floor. “Did I hurt you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Just stretched enough.”

“Do you want to do the other leg?”

Yes. Yes, and I shouldn’t. Yes, and I should put as much distance between Felix and me as possible. Yes, and we have at least another two days of driving before I can do that. “I’m good,” I lie.

“Right.” He doesn’t step back.

“Right.” There’s no way for me to move without sliding awkwardly along the wall. I could just tell him to back up. The words are somewhere, stuck in my throat.

“Would you…” Felix begins. His eyes cast toward the floorboards like he’s nervous to ask me.

From up the hall, the water finally, finally shuts off. Noises come through the bathroom door: Blake singing. He has a rich singing voice, deeper than his speaking one, like he might have once sung in a church choir. He’s too good for this world—certainly too good for me.

“Sure, yes, okay,” I say to the question Felix hasn’t finished asking.

Felix’s smile goes mischievous. “So you’ll help me.”

From the tilt of his voice on help, I’m going to regret this. “Yes, yes, whatever.” Just hurry up and get out of the damn hallway. There’s no possible way Blake could take as long drying off.

“…trim my beard?” Felix finishes.

I blink like I misheard him. “Do what?”

“I need to trim my beard. It’s easier with someone helping me.”

I search the request for an ulterior motive. Is this an excuse to get me closer to him? To take some kind of weird shot at Blake? “Just wait until we get to Florida.”

“This”—he drags his hand down his face—“is gonna be unworkable once we hit anyplace with real humidity. I was gonna get it cut today after we flew down. But I don’t want to show up looking like I’m not taking spring training seriously.”

It’s the second time Felix has managed to surprise me in less than five minutes. He’s worried about what the team thinks of him. Because Blake’s taking his job.

Guilt surges through me. A friend would help him out. “Did you want to do that right now?”

Felix grins as if he’s won something. “I was thinking tomorrow. You know how to use clippers, right?”

“Nope.” I make sure to pop the p. “But how hard could it be? You do it.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I do it badly.”

“I could probably do it badly too then.”

That gets another rumbling laugh. At last, Felix steps back—just in time for Blake to emerge from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his waist. Lines of water trace their way down the cuts of his abs. He’s still humming, but he stops short when he sees us laughing in the hallway.

“You get something to eat?” Blake asks.

Right, the food he took the time to make. My stomach rumbles my response. I laugh, a little embarrassed. “I was waiting for you.” Which isn’t the entire truth, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Blake turns toward Felix. “There’s enough for everyone.”

“Thanks,” Felix says. Then he smirks.

Oh no. What now?

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