nap. “When—I mean if, sorry—we’re in a committed relationship, we can have sex without a condom.”
Oh? This perks me up. “How long do people have to date before they consider themselves committed?”
She stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t know—I don’t think there are rules.”
I roll toward her and brace myself up on an elbow. “I don’t plan on dating anyone else—do you?”
Her eyes move to my face. “No.”
“Does that mean we’re committed?”
“No, but I think it means we’re monogamous?”
I pause, confused. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Yes? But no? Heck, I don’t know. I think committed means we’re in it for the long haul—we want to be together long-term. Monogamous just means…we’re only sleeping with each other until we figure out if we want to be committed.”
“So…” I think that through. “We can go bareback when we’re committed?”
Miranda opens her pretty mouth to reply, but the words about to leave her tongue die when my bedroom door crashes open, followed by Buzz Wallace, followed by, “Yo, dipshit, you guys in here?”
With a horrified gasp, Miranda disappears below the covers with a loud groan. “Oh my god, tell me that is not who I think it is.”
“It’s Wallace.”
“Why? Why is he like this?”
Because he cannot help himself. He’s the fucking worst.
“What the hell man—have you ever heard of knocking?”
His wide shoulders shrug. “The door was unlocked.”
Why I ever gave that dude the passcode to the gate is beyond me. I hate myself now.
“Wallace, you cannot just barge in. Did you not see Miranda’s car outside?” Not only did he definitely see the car outside, he is the one who sent her to the stadium to fetch me!
Now look at the bastard, picking at a fingernail and ignoring my scorn. “Yeah, so? I thought the three of us could hang.”
Hang? Not a fucking chance. “Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around? I thought you were with your brother or going to your mom’s, or some bullshit.”
“Oh. Right. I did say that.” He walks to the overstuffed chair in the corner of my room and plunks himself down, propping his feet up on the ottoman in front of him. I didn’t choose the furniture—the decorator did—and now I wish there wasn’t a suite of seating options for him to get comfortable on while Miranda and I are held captive on the bed.
“Do not make yourself comfortable, asshole! Get out!”
Beneath the covers, I hear a giggle—the traitor in my bed thinks this is amusing? I’ll deal with that later.
“This is what you’re doing? Taking a nap?” He yawns. “I was hoping you’d be having sex.”
Too late, did that already—three times.
“What do you want?”
“I told you: I was bored so I came here.”
“You are not picking up on my sarcasm—at all.”
The fingernail he’s been picking at gets popped into his mouth, and he peels it off, spiting it on my carpet. The fuck!
“No, I’m picking up what you’re throwing down. You just never know what’s good for you—I do.”
“How is you barging into my room while we’re naked good for me?”
This seems to perk him up. “You’re naked? Can I climb in?”
Finally, Miranda reacts, sitting up on the bed, hair and eyes wild. “Don’t you dare! No.” She holds the covers over her boobs. “Stop staring, you creep!”
“Can we go for dinner?” Buzz throws his head back on the cushion behind him. “I’m starving.”
Beside me, quietly, Miranda makes an eh sound. “I could eat, actually.”
Jesus Christ, these two are going to be the death of me. “The last thing I want to do is spend more time with you.” I cannot escape this dude. “Work, meetings—now you’re busting into my house.”
“I know, isn’t it great?”
It’s not great. I wonder for a second if I’ll ever get used to having a best friend who’s so…goddamn needy. None of my friends from home act like this. How the hell did I get stuck with the biggest playboy on the team? We’re polar opposites!
Buzz turns his attention to Miranda. “You look pretty cozy—you’re not going to move in here, are you?”
“NO!” Miranda practically shouts. “I mean…no. We just started seeing each other, my gosh.”
Buzz isn’t deterred. “Because if you did, you’d bring the rest of that baseball card collection, wouldn’t you?”
Goddamn him!
Miranda’s mouth drops open. Dips her head a bit lower, shielding herself. “We haven’t…we…”
Wallace repositions his feet on my ottoman, the bottoms of his white socks dirty. “Well since I’m here, maybe I can broker the deal between the two of you for