10. Broken Horns

Nour

Standing outside of the RV,I am livid over what I just heard.

Jillian slides the window open and asks through the screen, "What do you want?"

I simply hold up the mask. "Ellie dropped this on my stomach when I was lying in bed."

She rolls her eyes. "Then maybe she wants to play dress up. What does it have to do with me?"

"You know damn well what it has to do with you."

"I'm tired."

"You've been raging mad at me for a full twenty-four hours; I deserve ten minutes of your time." I hold the mask up again. "You get this in New York City on your girls' trip?"

She opens the door and hisses, "Will you shut up? There are cameras everywhere."

"Holy shit, I'm right." I point at her tits. "Pierced."

She grabs my wrist and pulls me inside before walking as far away from me as she can, which is about ten feet. "You can stop acting like you didn't know." She turns around and holds up a little can of pepper spray. "I'll use this if I have to, you fucking weirdo."

I shake my head and toss the mask onto the counter. "First, we're in an enclosed area—we'd both be effected. You're better off with the taser when you're inside" I pick it up and toss it to her. "Second, you're calling me a weirdo? I'm not the one who likes to play dress up when getting railed."

"Fuck you!" she spits. "My eyes were almost bleeding, and you're the one with the unicorn fetish."

I'm gonna get sick.

"Oh my God." I squat down and scrub my hands over my face. "Holy shit. I fucked Rome's sister."

"Which is probably some part of a plan to ruin his career or get more?—"

I stand up and throw my hands in the air. "I play better when I get laid, okay? With the fire and all the shit going on around here …" I groan. "Then Turner's story being weaponized and used as a cautionary tale, my batting average sucked. I needed to get off and get someone off to bring it back around."

"Oh. My. God." She laughs … at me. "You really think?—"

"I don't think; I know. And tonight proves my theory."

She starts laughing even harder.

"Nothing about this is funny, Jillian." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Rome asked me to be in his wedding when he marries CeCe. He's my best friend on the team."

"AJ and Bennett?—"

"Are great guys, family even, but Rome is solid, dependable, and has been since I met him. He doesn't flip out when I'm not holding his hand." I hold my hand on my abdomen. "Oh Jesus, I'm going to get sick."

"Aw," she coos. "It's those seven words every woman wants to hear from the guy who was last inside of her."

I sit on the tiny-ass sofa and bury my face in my hands. "Right, sorry, kind of like a chick thanking you for popping her cherry after the—" I snap my mouth shut and look at her.

"Don't." She shakes her head and points to the door. "If the soap wasn't in my eyes, or I wasn't trying to keep it dark so SMS didn't think I was some crackhead, I wouldn't have let you in the door."

"I fucking wouldn't have come in." I look up as she rolls her eyes then looks at the ceiling. "You know I wasn't saying it for any other reason than you're Rome's little sister. You know you're beautiful, funny, and some guy who isn't me?—"

"Ew, stop."

"Right." I blow out a breath and look up at her. "Feels wrong to say I'm sorry, but I am."

"Okay, let's not."

"You weren't a virgin, right?"

"Again, we're not doing this."

"Fuck me. I should have known from the first lick you were too damn sweet?—"

"La, la, la, la, la?—"

"Okay, okay, okay. But?—"

"But nothing. You were proving a theory, and so was I."

I shake my head. "Now don't do that."

She stomps toward me, phone in hand, taps on the screen, and then shows me something in her notes. "An actual scientific theory, not a superstition," she clarifies.

Thesis

I am compelled to investigate a recurring pattern observed among the American females in their teens and twenties who have a tendency to prioritize romantic pursuits over personal dreams and aspirations.

(They chased boys and not dreams.)

Through a self-directed research project, I aim to uncover the underlying societal, psychological, and physical factors that influence this choice, seeking to understand its implications on their personal and professional development.

My hypothesis: It's sex, not love.

Subject one: SMS

Thorough, great banter, focus on giving pleasure.

Possibly to ensure his ego stays well inflated.

Sexually deviant.

"Inflated ego? Sexual deviant?"

"Ego, yes. Deviant, I suppose I can let that go, but you did seem to like the mask. And yeah, now I don't believe you knew who I was and were trying to ruin my brother's career." She holds out her hand. "See? We're good."

I scroll down.

"Subject two? No, fuck that, Jillian. You're lucky the guy you met wasn't a sicko."

"Oh jeez, thank you for being such a gentleman."

"You're welcome, you sarcastic little shit." I roll my eyes. "I was lucky, too. This whole time, I've been waiting for some freak in a unicorn mask to post a selfie of me passed out naked in the background."

"Not yet, but that could totally be used for bribery," she jokes … I think.

"You actually take a picture?" I ask.

She quirks a brow. "A lady never tells."

"Lady?" I joke, and she tries to jack her phone away. "Grown-ass woman with a job, a taser, and pepper spray—your words."

"Phone."

"Only if you promise not to send that piece of shit money again."

She's back to glaring at me.

"I was outside, you had it on speaker. Wasn't trying to be a creep."

"Yet, here we are." And pissed, super pissed.

I wish it wasn't turning me on.

"You were privy to my family shit tonight, with Amira's storytelling."

"Oh, please, don't compare being grounded over panties to our fathers' deplorable actions."

Was deeper than panties, but …"Fine, you win. Does Roman know he hits you up for money?"

"No, and he better not find out."

"Then you better not give him anymore." I stand.

"You don't get to tell me what to do because we boned."

I need to get the fuck out of here.

"Not telling you what to do. I heard you tell him you wouldn't. So, be a good girl, and?—"

"Get out." She steps up to me and pushes on my chest. "Go."

"We still have to discuss how to handle the Rome situation."

"There will be no Rome situation, if you go—now."

She's fucking cute, but …"My loyalty's to him."

What she does next blows my fucking mind.

She grips my sac—pretty fucking hard, too—as she leans in and says, "You more loyal to him … or your balls?" She releases them and steps back. "You tell him, I'll find a way to rid you of them. I tell him, I won't have to find a way—he'll do it."

I swallow down a golf-ball-sized lump in my throat then rebut her statement, "He's a reasonable guy; he'll understand."

"You wanna bet your balls on that?"

"Not tonight. I have a game to prepare for."

"White sage?" she asks.

"No."

She glances down at my growing erection. "Might wanna take care of that. You might roll over and break it right?—"

"That's so fucked up," I hiss, my balls tightening up.

She reaches past me and opens the door. "Then make sure you watch your step. It's not a pogo stick."

"Your concern for my dick is unsettling."

"So was your concern for subject two," she says, and I know she's itching for me to volley it back.

"I don't have time for this debate. I have a game to prepare for."

"So you've said." She nods toward the door. "Ba-bye."

Sitting in the dugout,with Bennett silently stewing beside me, we're up by two in the eighth when he breaks the silence with, "They're going to fuck this up."

Not any more than I did.

"That would mean a good night's sleep."

"I think it's dumb we don't go to the bar after a loss. Isn't that when we need it the most?"

"If we were alcoholics, but we're not, and we're not going to become one."

"The other night, when you dipped out on us."

I don't respond. It won't change how he feels regardless of what I say.

"Yeah, I think I need to get laid, like soon."

"You do what you need to do, man," I reply, trying not to laugh.

"My experience with real women is limited."

What. The. Fuck?

"Might need some clarification on that, Blaze."

"I wasn't allowed to date."

"Are you talking limited, as in blowup doll, or are you a virgin?"

He looks at me like I'm the idiot. "I lost my virginity at fifteen."

"Not to a blowup doll?"

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Professional women."

"Your old man hired you hookers?" I ask, greatly needing clarification.

He nods. "They were part of my regimen."

"And now they're not?"

He shakes his head. "None of them are. My old man is on staff, so I don't have a choice in the matter."

"Never been on a date?"

He shakes his head.

"Never had a girlfriend?"

"Clearly not."

"You wanna get laid or meet someone?"

"Both, but separate."

"You want to date someone and fuck someone else?"

"Yes, but respectfully."

"You understand that dating someone and fucking someone else is, in fact, disrespectful."

"That's a problem. It's also a problem that I'm attracted to different women for each role," he states then continues, "You know that game marry, fuck, kill?"

I nod and brace for whatever is about to come out of his mouth.

"I'd marry a girl like Cora. She's sweet, funny, and has great child-bearing hips. I'd fuck Fawna or Amira."

I stand up to walk away, but he keeps on talking.

"Both together if they'd—" He stops. "Where are you going?"

"Not to jail."

When I round the corner, I see Turner and Coach T silently laughing their asses off.

"I hate both of you."

Standing in the hall,waiting for press with Roman and Amias, neither is saying a thing, but I can feel their eyes on me.

"So …" Ranger chuckles.

"Gonna ask that you not," I cut him off.

Rome starts in next, "He mentioned CeCe's sister, too."

"He did."

"The shit has no filter, so whoever he fucks, marries, or kills will know what he's thinking." Roman laughs.

"He's pissed you didn't hang out," Amias says, trying to keep his shit straight. "He told me he changed kill to friend because, if he went to jail, he'd never have sex again."

"Thanks for giving me even more information I do not need to know."

"Who's he friending?" Rome laughs.

"Too much respect for Linda to say your momma, but you get the point, yeah?"

He laughs as Brisa pops her head out of the press room and waves for us to come in.

The last time I was on press, Blaze brought the room to a low that even had me feeling myself. That's not happening this time.

I head in first, needing to distance myself, if even briefly.

Upon entering the room, I realize I've made a huge mistake because, before my ass even hits the chair, they start firing questions my way.

I smile. "Bear with me for a minute while I try to familiarize myself with you all."

"How are you gonna do that?" a man's voice booms through the room.

"I'm going to look at your passes and match your names and faces to your network. By the end of the season, I should know most of you. You're ESPN, Stan Fierce, the man whose voice is louder than the whole press room."

This garners a laugh as I shift to the reporter next to him, who's wearing a cowboy hat.

"Fox Sports, Bobby Johnson, Fox, all American. Got it. Giddy up." Next to him. "MLB Network, Robby Freeman. stats man, you carry that clipboard like it's your best friend."

"Gotta keep everyone straight."

"Grateful for that." I look past him. "You with the glasses, I can't see your press pass."

He holds it up. "NMC Sports, Bob Wiseman."

"Professor Wiseman, NMC. Glasses. You take them off, I'm going to be lost." I lift a chin to the man to his right and already know who he is. "CBS Sports, Tony ‘Touchdown' Romeo. I got you. Next to you, SportsNet, Mike Maple, magic on the mic."

They all laugh.

"One more, and we'll save the rest for next time in here with you all. TBS Sports, Timmy O'Learly, the tallest man in the room, let's start with you."

"That was one hell of a hit last night; what held you back today?"

"Game's always a little off when I'm too deep in …" I pause because I see Rome sit forward, and all I can think is "your sister." Fuck! "Yeah, just like that, in my head. We'll watch reels tonight, fix what we can, and be back tomorrow to win a third game."

I nod to the professor.

"Practically mid-season, and they just started giving you and Bennett a break. Was there a reason for that?"

"Yeah." I nod. "They probably didn't wanna hear both Bennett and I complain about being on the bench."

"Giddy up?" I nod to the Fox guy.

"You happy catching, or do you miss the field?"

"I'm just happy playing ball. They can put me wherever they want me." I look at Rome. "You wanna take a few?"