| |
––––––––
THE WEIGHT OF EVERYTHING going on with Mom and Dad was pressing down on me as I showered after practice. It had been weighing on me all practice too, distracting me as I tried to focus on the mechanics of my game. It was an off-day for pitching, but I flubbed grounders twice, and couldn’t seem to make solid contact on anything breaking in batting practice.
It was enough that Coach told me I could take the rest of practice off halfway through if I was tired, but I soldiered on. Mostly because Kevin was having a banner day, and seeing his cheerful smile was at least bringing the mood up a bit.
That cheerful mood apparently didn’t stop when he was out of his uniform either. I had no more than gotten on shorts after my shower when I could hear his ham-fist pounding on my door and his deep baritone singing out my name in an operatic style.
“Damn, Kev, you looking to replace Pavarotti?” I asked as I swung the door open.
“What do you know about the Three Tenors?” he laughed as he barreled past me into my room and threw himself on the tiny couch, which looked even tinier under his massive frame.
“I know you play it in the car all the time,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Kevin said, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees and his eyes danced with merriment. “We are going to go have some fun.”
“Ah, Kev, I dunno, I already—” I began.
“You did nothing of the kind, and you can’t convince me of it,” he said. “You weren’t hanging out with me, and therefore it didn’t count, boss.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and we have games tomorrow,” I continued to half-heartedly protest.
“All the more reason to go out tonight,” he said cheerfully. “We won’t have a chance after tonight, and there is alcohol to imbibe.”
“Kev, no one can out-drink you, and I am pretty certain you took down an entire bottle of wine last night.”
“Both of those things are true,” he said. “However, they are not reasons not to go out tonight. Come on. Be my wingman.”
“Wingman?” I asked. “Since when did you ever need a wingman?”
“Since I felt like convincing my buddy to go out drinking,” he said.
“Fair enough,” I said. “But I should get back in before last call.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kevin said. “Now get dressed. Knock on my door when you’re ready.”
“What do you mean, get dressed? I am dressed.”
He looked critically at my pair of shorts. Slowly, he shook his head.
“Nah,” he said finally and walked past, exiting out of my room in a trailing mist of cologne.
Laughing, I went back to my suitcase and opened it up.
Long ago, I had watched a TV show with some well-put together dude, one whose name escaped me at the moment, but who had seemingly achieved all the things I hoped I would achieve at his age. He was well-dressed, successful, and seemed to have his shit together. The interviewer was talking to him about rising up out of poverty, and it struck me enough to make me watch it, engrossed in the man’s serious but approachable attitude.
He had talked about a number of things, all of which I took to heart. One of those things that he said every successful man should have is a selection of nice dress clothes. Even if you don’t expect to use them often, having them was invaluable. I put that advice to the test and found that he was wildly correct as I grew up. So much so that even now, on a baseball tournament trip to the beach, I had a nicely folded dress shirt, slacks, socks, and shoes in the suitcase, taking up space that could have gone to any number of other things but that I’d insisted on bringing.
Just in case.
As I put them on, keeping the top button undone and eschewing the tie, I checked myself in the mirror.
I wish Lila could see this, I thought to myself.
I mean Star. Star. I wish Star could see this.
Spraying on a bit of cologne, I headed for Kevin’s door and rapped on it. Rather than poking his head out or simply opening the door, he swung it wide and appeared in the center, his head just missing smashing on the top of the doorframe.
“Ready?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said.
“Looking good, boss,” he said.
“Thanks, Kev.”
“What do you think of the shoes?”
I looked down at the enormous Chucks he was wearing. Somehow it worked with the rest of the more traditional slacks and dress shirt motif.
“Blue works for you, bud,” I said.
“Damn right,” he said. “Come on.”
It was a curious thing going out with Kevin. On one hand, he stuck out like a sore thumb, being a foot above almost everyone and looking like someone had carved him out of a tree. But there was also a specific kind of ... fluidity to him. He had never addressed it with me, but perhaps he never had to. I’d known it about him since the day we met. Kevin was not a choosy person when it came to who he could have a good time with. Whoever, and however, that good time was had.
It fit with the wine and opera aspects of his personality as much as it fit with his baseball and beer kegs part. Among the many reasons I greatly enjoyed being his best friend was the fact that I never knew which Kevin I was going to get on a daily basis. Was I going to run into the heavy weight-lifting, heavy metal-listening, bearded lumberjack Kevin, or the pink shorts, clean-shaven, Bellini and philosophy conversation Kevin?
Tonight, it appeared, he was a mixture of both.
As we headed down the steps, foregoing the elevator with the ego of athletes everywhere, I figured we’d drop right off into the bar in the bottom of the hotel and start there. It was a surprise when Kevin barreled through the door and began heading for the exit, only stopping when we came across a couple of the girls coming the other way. Among them was Lila.
She looked spectacular.
It wasn’t that she was wildly dressed up. She just had on jeans and a tight blouse, almost casual enough to be normal, but probably showing a bit more of her assets than strictly necessary. The jeans were an interesting touch considering the heat, but they were very shapely around her backside and showed off how long her legs were without expressly showing off how muscular they were too.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she responded.
“What are you up to?”
“Oh, just getting dinner,” she said, motioning toward the other girls. “Coach bought us all dinner, so you know. Not going to skip that.”
“For sure,” I said, laughing awkwardly.
“Emma wanted to watch the sunset afterwards, so we spent some time out there. I just had no interest in getting in water.”
“I see,” I said, and suddenly couldn’t stop my brain from imagining her in that tight, light blue blouse, soaking wet. How the shirt would cling to her breasts. How her wet hair would stick to her face and she would sling her head back to make it fall back into place behind her. How water droplets would drip down the center of her throat, racing each other as they sold their soul to be first to be between her tits.
“Gav?” Kevin said from a little ahead of me. He had turned around when he noticed I wasn’t following him anymore.
“Oh, hey Kevin,” Lila said. “You look nice. You both look... really nice.”
“Thank you,” Kevin boomed, putting on a cheesy smile and doing a half-twirl. “Look at my shoes. I got them last week.”
“Chucks with slacks, I like it,” Lila laughed. “You pull that off well.”
“I am a man of exquisite taste, right, boss?” Kevin said, laughing.
“He is,” I said.
“We’re going to down to the bar a few blocks down the street. The one in here is boring and in serious need of a dance floor. The one down there has a dance floor that leads out onto the beach.”
“Oh,” I said. “We are?”
Kevin looked at me like I just grew a second head.
“Of course. You didn’t think I wanted to hang out here, did you?”
“How silly of me,” I said.
“I want to go!” Emma said, popping up from behind Lila. “I haven’t been out dancing in weeks!”
“Me too,” said Lila, and my jaw dropped. She looked at me with an expression of excitement, and I found myself warming to the idea immediately.
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “Cool, yeah, well, come on then.”
“I can’t go like this!” Emma said. “I’ll be right back!”
“Sure, sure,” Kevin said. “We have time. Come on, let’s go grab a drink here then.”
Kevin motioned toward the bar in the hotel and walked past, leaving me alone with Lila as a few other girls caught wind of the upcoming plans, squealed, and went rushing up the stairs.
“I probably should go change,” Lila said, her eyes not having left mine.
“I mean, you don’t have to,” I said. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you,” she said, then bit her bottom lip in a way that made my stomach clench. “Still, I’d feel better with a bit of eyeshadow or something. You’ll wait for us?”
“I’ll wait for you,” I said, then realized how specifically I’d pointed that statement and clenched my jaw shut. I didn’t want to backtrack it. I just let it sit there, between us, a phrase that was wholly up to interpretation and with both of us seemingly searching the other’s face for which one they were going with.
“I’ll be right back then,” she said, and her voice seemed a bit more like a purr. My cock twitched in my slacks, and I suddenly was very happy I was wearing a slightly tighter pair of boxer-briefs.
As she walked away, I watched her go and then joined Kevin at the bar. We had no more than gotten our beers and taken a sip than Emma was back downstairs, seemingly frantic, and with more glitter on than I had ever seen one human being wear. Internally, I knew that none of us were getting out of tonight without being glitter-bombed just by being in her presence, and that meant we were going to be looking like extras from Twilight during the game.
Oh well, maybe we’d distract the other team with our shininess.
As Lila returned a few moments later, just ahead of the gaggle of other girls and a handful of the guys they’d picked up along the way, I sat stunned at how she looked. She had slipped into a different pair of pants, capris this time that showed off her calves and hugged the rest of her lower half like glue. She had kept the light-blue blouse but had seemingly attracted some of Emma’s glitter to the cleavage. Never had I wanted to fill my face with glitter than at that moment and I chided myself for thinking it.
Her eyes were more prominent now, and they darted over to me as she grinned and I downed the beer in response.
“Hell yeah,” Kevin said as he watched me finish off my beer in a few glugs. He then proceeded to take his down in what seemed an awful lot like one swallow. “Let’s roll.”
The group headed for the exit, and as we squeezed together to get through the door, Lila and I ended up beside each other. I could have let her go in front of me or slipped through before, but instead, I stepped halfway through and held the door with my back. She turned herself sideways and sidled past me, her chest brushing mine and her eyes drilling into my own.
I caught a whiff of her perfume as she passed me, and only for the briefest of seconds did it remind me of being in their apartment with Star. I had a feeling that was the last time I was going to think about my quasi-girlfriend all night.
I wasn’t exactly mad about it.
“I didn’t think you’d be the going-out type tonight,” I said as we started down the sidewalk behind Kevin and the cadre of girls that was in his wake.
“Well, I was sick the first couple of days,” she said. “This might be my only chance at some fun on Spring Break.”
“Good point,” I said. “Well, in that case, I promise to make it as fun as I can for you.”
“I look forward to that,” she said, giggling. The sound of her laughter made my pants tighten again, and I looked away so I wouldn’t be tempted to stare at her anymore. “Oh, you know what we should do?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“We should take a selfie. For Star.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, sure.”
I pulled out my phone and held it out in front of me, turning on the camera. As I did, Lila sidled up beside me and stood on her toes in the heels she had put on. For a moment, she lost balance and caught herself on me, pressing her cheek to mine. As I snapped the picture, capturing wide, happy smiles, I found myself wanting desperately to turn her toward me and press my lips to hers. They were so close.
Lila stepped back onto her heels, and I typed out a message to Star, saying we missed her as we were heading out with the team for some dancing. I hit enter, and it sent. But as we made our way to the bar down the street, the phone never alerted that she responded. I wasn’t entirely sure I would have noticed if she had.
Or cared.
