Page 51 of Off Season

Without any more words needing to be exchanged, I turn onTitanicand we cuddle together like we’ve done thousands of times before.

Three hours later,Ripley and I are walking to Screwballs to meet the guys. They’re hoping to cheer up Layton, who’s miserable without Arizona. She was contractually obligated to go to that worldwide photo shoot while Layton is stuck home recovering from his injury. To add salt to his wounds, they replaced him with the insanely hot Butch McVey, the biggest star in professional baseball right now. The guys said that Layton has been a jealous mess.

I wrap my jacket tightly around me on the cold fall night. “Fuck, it’s getting cold. I thought Philly was supposed to be warmer than Chicago.”

Without any expression, she mutters, “It’s a big city.”

What? “Are you listening to me, Rip?”

She blinks a few times. “Sorry. What were you saying? Something about Chicago and coldness. Yes, it’s cold as hell.”

“The expression is cold as hail, not hell.”

She pinches her eyebrows together. “For real?”

“Yep. Hell is hot. Hail is cold.”

She mumbles, “Holy shit. I never knew that.”

“Hot as hell. Cold as hail. Now you’ll never forget.” I hold out my arm and stop her from entering the bar. “What’s wrong with you? Something is off. Something has been off with you for weeks.”

Tears immediately fill her eyes, but they leave as quickly as they come. “I’m fine.”

I place my hand on my friend’s shoulder. “You can talk to me, Rip. I’m here for you. Always.”

She visibly swallows before nodding. “I know. Thanks. I’m good. I promise.”

“You’re not good. We’ve been friends for ten years. I would know. Whenever you’re ready to talk about whatever has been going on with you the past few weeks, let me know. No judgment. Only love.”

I suddenly feel a hard spank on my ass and turn around to see a blond man, likely in his early twenties, smirking at me. He laughs with a group of guys around his age.

As he slowly walks backward while facing me, he says, “Sorry, but you have a great ass. It was begging for a little attention. It’s good to see that the front side matches the back side. We should hang out, sexy.”

I grit my teeth and point my finger at him. “Listen, you motherfuck—”

I’m a millisecond from beating his ass when I feel Ripley wrap her arms around me and interrupt, “He’s not worth your breath. Let’s get out of here. Therealmen are waiting.” She yells louder. “The kind who know it’s not ever okay to grope women without invitation. The kind who know that women could have you arrested for sexual assault if you don’t get out of our faces in the next three seconds.”

The group of guys all turn and run away. I think I’ve officially lost all faith in men. I’m genuinely at my wit’s end.

Ripley takes my hand. “Are you okay? That was fucked up.”

“What is it about me that makes men think it’s okay to do that to me?”

“It’s not you. It’s them. Come on. Let’s get inside and get you a drink.”

A few seconds later, we walk into the bar. I see Cheetah, Quincy, Ezra, and some random girl sitting in our regular booth. I have a tinge of jealousy at the possibility that she’s with Cheetah. I’m already on edge tonight. I don’t think I could sit there and watch another woman touch him.

He and I had the best time at the diner the night of the accident. I don’t know why I got on that plane with Ripley andBailey, but I did. Something inside me told me that he needed a friend, and I was right.

We talked about anything and everything all night. And then, at our team’s victory parade a few days later, he celebrated with us like he was the one who won the championship. His genuine joy in our triumph was touching.

My resolve is weakening when it comes to him. I find myself wanting to spend more time with him. It both excites and terrifies me. I haven’t felt this way about someone since high school, more than ten years ago.

As we step further inside, Ripley turns to me. “I’m running to the bathroom. I’ll meet you in the booth. Try not to screw with Cheetah too much in my absence.”

Well, fucking with Cheetah happens to be my favorite pastime. Trading barbs with him warms my soul like nothing else.

Hewarms my soul.

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