Immoral by Nicole Dykes
I siton the bench in the locker room as Bennett ties the laces on his cleats. Most of the guys have filtered out of the locker room already, and I try like hell not to let my nerves get to me. Most of my new teammates seem to have accepted Bennet and me with open arms, but I’m still wary.
It feels like the first day of school. We both know we have something to prove tonight. Prove to the fans and the team we’re worth every penny.
But still, Bennett and I are fucking solid. Training went smoothly, and we’re ready for this shit.
“Okay, I have to ask you . . .” I look over at Bennett expectantly. “The rumors?”
I almost laugh but don’t. He hasn’t asked me all spring. But now he’s going to? Okay. “What rumors?”
He shoves my shoulder. “Don’t be an asshole. Are they true?”
He doesn’t look disgusted or even nervous about my answer. He already knows but wants it confirmed. It’s the worst-kept secret nowadays.
Grady and I don’t hide. We go where we want when we want, but still we’ve avoided any actual straight-forward questions, and we haven’t put out a statement. It isn’t our style, and honestly, it isn’t going to happen.
At least not a professionally worded, well thought-out Tweet.
“I’m gay.”
He nods, standing up and walking toward the door. “Okay, then.”
“What the fuck?” I stand up, smiling and walk to him. “That’s it? No questions?”
“What, like who’s the pitcher and who’s the catcher?”
I roll my eyes and shove him. He laughs. “No, asshole.”
“You really want to talk about assholes?” He cocks his head to the side, and I grab the handle to the door.
“Nevermind. You really are a shithead.”
He stops me from leaving. “You’re the shithead. You could have told me. It’s not like I didn’t suspect . . . maybe.”
Not surprised. “You never said anything.”
He shrugs. “It’s not like it mattered, but you could have told me.”
I do feel shitty for keeping it a secret all this time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to put that burden on you. Keeping a secret like that doesn’t feel good for anyone.”
“I’m sorry you had to.” He raises an eyebrow. “But not anymore?”
I shake my head. “Nah, it’s nobody’s business who I fuck . . .”
“That being Grady Bell.”
“Who knew you were such a fucking gossip queen?”
He laughs, pulling the door open so we can walk out. The game is starting soon. “No more secrets, dickhead. I mean it. I’m happy for you, even if my wife is pretty damn disappointed Grady is off the market.”
“Did you hear what you just said? She’s your wife.”
He laughs easily, shrugging it off with confidence and playfulness. “Eh, I know I’m her second choice. I’ve dealt with it, Ry.”
I laugh at his joke because that woman is head over heels for him, crush on my man or not. “Still, I hope we’ll still get invites to your famous cookouts.”
He nudges my shoulder. “Of course, you will. Just gotta keep an eye on our significant others.”
I can hear the crowd already as we walk out to the field. God, I love that sound. Not quite as much as Grady singing or his laugh . . . but it’s right up there with my favorite sounds.
“Let’s go show these motherfuckers how we do it,” I say as we jog out to warm up.
Who knew I could have everything I want? Not me. But I’ll fucking take it.
