2. Alex Mendoza

2

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I'm an asshole.

Not only did I keep a huge secret from my best friend, but then I buried it with another one just to make myself feel better. Nikki has no idea about the beef between Brayden and me. Why would she? I barely broke the news to her about my parents; I wasn't going to pile on about how Brayden found out my dad had an affair with a former student. Just my luck that jerk is cousins with my dad's new girlfriend, Vanessa Arendale.

He's been bringing it up a little too loudly in the locker room, and last week he mentioned to some of the guys that his hot cousin works at my old school. Of course, then everyone had to stalk her social media and go on and on about how hot she is. Thank God she's savvy enough to not post photos of her with my dad being all . . . together and shit. Brayden's fucking face mocked me the whole time, too. I swear, the reason he's messing with me so much is because he blames me for him and Nikki breaking up—three years ago!

To be honest, she never seemed upset when they ended things. I'm surprised she's still into him, or whatever it is she has for him. Who am I to judge her hookups if that's what she wants. And so what if it's Brayden.

I leapt at the notion of rubbing things in his face for a little while, which wasn't doing right by Nikki. I didn't tell her this, but she could probably simply tell him she wants to start talking again and he'd be all over it. I see how he still looks at her. But selfishly? I'd rather see him work for it. I'm not sure he's good enough, but I'll put him to the test, maybe make him see what he lost when he broke up with her last time. And then when he"s gotten the point, I'll let them work things out. If that's what Nikki really wants.

"Hey, in your head today, Mendoza?" Cole snaps his workout towel at my shoulder, but he's too slow, and I manage to snag it, wrap it around my fist, and jerk it from him.

"Just thinking about all the ways you suck," I joke, throwing his towel toward the trash bin. It almost goes in but slides to the floor instead.

"Ha! Yeah, good one." His wry tone prompts me to get up from the bench press and dodge his next incoming towel snap.

"Sucker, I wanted your spot," he says, taking over my bench while wearing a cocky-ass grin.

"Good luck lifting that," I say. He eyes the plates and does the math before rolling his eyes and getting up to change them out.

Cole's an outfielder, which means he can run for miles and is probably one of two guys out here who can beat my forty time. But he can't outlift me. Only guys who can do that are Coach and our catcher, Dom.

"You psyched for Friday?" Cole asks as he ducks his head and positions himself under the bar. I move to spot him. He's still lifting too heavy. His damn ego is going to get him hurt. Like I should talk.

"Yeah. Hopefully I don't hit like shit," I grumble. His face muscles strain and his cheeks turn red as he lowers the weight toward his chest. I keep my hands close.

"Get out of your head. I know that's what you were in here thinking about," he huffs out once the weight is up again. He grits his teeth and begins to lower the bar again, my hands inches away.

"The draft kinda does that . . . takes over your mind?" I explain. Cole has no interest in playing beyond this year. He's already set for grad school. Dude's going to be a dentist. Maybe he has life figured out.

"You're entering a whole new era for stress," he grunts out, nodding for me to help him slide the bar back to the rack.

"That your personal best?" I ask.

"Yeah," he pants.

"Ha ha!" We slap hands and I grab hold of his to help him to his feet. "Glad my misery can give you a boost."

Cole lets out a heavy laugh as he pulls the safety clip free from the bar to add my weight back on. I laugh along with him, but after a few seconds he's still smirking and shaking his head.

"You find my stress amusing?" I slide a weight on my end, then rest my arms on the end of the bar.

"I don't know, man. Just sayin' . . . things didn't look so stressful last night at the basketball game. I didn't know you and Nikki were finally?—"

"That?" I cut him off before his gossipy mouth goes too far. "Nah, we're good friends. That's all. I was just unloading some of my stress to her is all."

I wave my hand at him then put the clip back on my side of the bar. I straddle the bench for a second and clear out my lungs with a massive exhale before positioning myself under the bar. Cole steps in to spot me, but I don't need his help for this. I've got forty more pounds to add, at least, before this lift gets hard.

"Well, you looked pretty friendly is all. And you know what? Why not? You ever think about hitting that?"

My eyes roll to meet his and I glare at him with absolute laser beams.

"Nobody hits Nikki," I clarify, making sure to emphasize his poor word choice with my lifted brow.

He makes the right choice and looks away as he utters, "Sorry, man. I didn't mean it like that. I get too comfortable with my words sometimes."

"Yeah, well, go ahead and forget that term. For all women. Not just Nikki." I start my lift and grunt as I push up hard and fast, meeting his eyes again. "But especially when it comes to Nikki."

I hold the weight with straight arms until he nods and says, "Understood."

I knock out eight reps in about half the time it took him, then swivel my head from under the bar so I can sit up.

"That's the thing, though. What I was saying, I mean? About you and Nikki?" I'm not following him, but if he doesn't drop my best friend from our conversation soon I might have to knock his teeth in.

"And what is the thing? Choose your words carefully," I say, pointing a finger at him as I stand and move across the room to grab my water bottle. I like getting in here about forty minutes early for weights. I like to have my space to do my work before everyone's in my way. Sure, I get in twice the workout, but also . . . I get in twice the workout.

"I mean, that's why it looked like maybe you two were finally getting together. It wouldn't be so crazy, you know. You're always like her big, bad bodyguard around everyone else."

I spit out half my sip of water with a hard laugh.

"Big. Bad. Bodyguard?" I don't think I'm quite that protective.

"You remember that guy from Northern State who hit on her after our series last year?" He quirks a brow, and I pretend to wrack my memory for his example. I know exactly who he means—Hunter Hyland, Northern's jackass of a relief pitcher who nailed me with a ninety-eight-mile-per-hour fastball to the ribs after spending the whole game chatting up Nikki when he should have been putting in his bullpen work.

"Come on. I know you know who I mean," Cole badgers me.

I wave him off again.

"Yeah, I know. But that was different. And so what? Nikki is important to me, and she deserves better than some guy who can only grow half a mustache." Not that I should talk about facial hair. There's a reason I stop after three days of stubble. Any more and I look like a creature from the woods.

"Look, all I'm saying is if she's that important, maybe you've been thinking about your relationship with her in the wrong way." He peers at me around the edge of his water bottle, eyebrows raised as he guzzles down a big drink.

Rather than continuing to debate him, I give him the biggest reason of all why I've never crossed that line with Nikki. There are times when it is actually the only reason, but it's so steadfast that it's enough.

"I hear you. And I appreciate you thinking I am even in that girl's league. But when it comes to my relationship with Nikki Thomas, it's just one of those things in life that's too important."

Cole holds my gaze for a second but eventually nods then tips his water bottle back to drain it.

Is Nikki beautiful? Yes. Is she the smartest woman I know? Another yes. Funniest? Kindest? Most resourceful? Honest? Yeah, she's everything. It's why she's my best friend. She knows me better than anyone in my life. When I hurt, she hurts. When I fly? She flies. It's why I struggled so hard telling her the shit about my dad. But in the end, of all people, Nikki is the one I tell. And what she and I have is too important to mess up with experiments. Even if I still dream about kissing her our freshman year on a dare. We are who we are, still, because that kiss never became anything else. She was into Brayden then, and is now, apparently.

"All right, but if she wants to marry a dentist one day, you better show up to our wedding." Cole holds his serious expression in place for about half a second before a laugh breaks through half of his mouth.

"Brother, you could literally discover a new type of tooth, and there ain't no way you're getting on her radar," I jest.

Truthfully? Cole's a good looking guy. And he's nice, despite needing to work on his manners. He'd probably treat her right, too. But my blessing? Hell no. I have yet to meet the guy who gets that from me when it comes to her.

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