The Locker Room(63)

There’s a twinkle in my mom’s eye, and I think she knows something I don’t—something I might be a little afraid to admit at this point in our relationship—so I let her have her suspicions.

“Did you get her a Christmas present?”

“Yeah.” I pick up a piece of toffee and pop it in my mouth, letting the flavors melt on my tongue before chewing. Grandma Sue knows her way around a toffee recipe. “Got her a little heart necklace, just something to let her know I’m always with her.”

My mom clasps her hands to her heart. “Oh, that’s so sweet. I raised such a lovely boy.”

“Yeah, you did some things right,” I tease.

“Some things? I did a lot of things right with you boys. All so sensitive and polite, I couldn’t be prouder.” Her lips hover the edge of her mug before she says, “Now, are you using protection?”

I roll my eyes, knowing that was coming. “Don’t worry, Mom, we haven’t had sex.” Dry-humping, yes. Dry-humping with no clothes, yes, but actual sex . . . that’s a big fat nope.

And I’m surprisingly not mad about it.

Do I want to get inside her? Truly connect with my girl? Hell, yeah, but I almost like this crazy foreplay we have going on, the buildup is intense, and I know the minute we finally snap, it’s going to be explosive.

Stunned, my mom sits across from me, mouth agape. I don’t hide shit from my mom, so she knows I’ve had sex, multiple times, with multiple women. I don’t go into detail, because I’m not a sick fuck like that, but she knows, and I don’t try to hide it. It’s what I love about my mom, she really is a best friend.

“You haven’t had sex with her?”

“Nope.” I pop another piece of toffee in my mouth. “I mean, we’ve done some things, but sex, not yet.”

“That’s . . . wow, I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Are you calling me a manwhore, Mom?”

“No.” She chuckles. “I’m just surprised, given your track record with women. You must really care about her.”

“I do. A lot.” I sit back in my chair, slouching against the Windsor back. “She was hurt badly by her ex of six years. She was really skittish at first, really wanted nothing to do with me, but I knew she was special. I took things slow and we’ve gradually been building a foundation . . . a friendship.”

“Oh, be still my heart, I don’t think I can take this. My baby is all grown up and finding the perfect girl.”

“Yeah, she is pretty perfect, that’s for damn sure.”

“Do I get to meet her this spring?”

“I hope so. I haven’t given her my schedule yet, but our first exhibition game is shortly after we get back from break. I’m kind of hoping she goes. She hasn’t seen me play yet.”

Brentwood is the only college baseball team with an indoor/outdoor stadium thanks to the heavy tuition and dedicated sponsors—aka, professional baseball players—making our fields the destination during the early semester months. We host many exhibitions before we head south for outdoor tournaments right before our season begins. It also makes training year around easy since we’re not hindered by the weather. It’s what takes our teams to the next level and why we’re a force to be reckoned with.

“Well, isn’t she in for a treat then? You’re so wonderful to watch play.”

“Thanks, Mom.” And I know she means that. She’s been my number-one fan for as long as I can remember, my brothers second to her. Their support is one of the reasons I’ve been able to succeed in my sport.

She pats the table. “You know what, I need to start bedazzling a hat for her. We can’t have her looking foolish with nothing to support the team with.”

Because a bedazzled hat isn’t foolish . . .

But I would never say that. My mom loves her hats. She takes them very seriously and I would never ruin that for her.

“I think that’s a great idea, Mom. She’ll love it.”

“Oh dear, I really like this girl already and I haven’t met her. I can tell, Knox, we’re going to be wonderful friends.”

I sure as hell hope so. The girl who owns my heart will own my mom’s too. It’s inevitable. I’ve watched her welcome two sisters into our family through her genuine and heartfelt kindness, and I want that for my girl too. It’s what my mom deserves. It’s what my girl will deserve too.





“Merry Christmas, baby,” I say while leaning back against my headboard and holding my phone out in front of me.

Emory’s smiling face takes up the screen, a Santa hat on her head, and bright red lipstick on those delicious lips.

“Merry Christmas, Knox.” I think she’s in her bedroom, but I can’t really tell because she seems to be sitting in a chair.

“Get anything good?”

She runs her fingers along her necklace I gave her and then says, “Some clothes and gift cards. I also got this picture frame with a really hot, shirtless guy in it.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Dottie slipped the present under the tree for me.”

“Yeah, and opening it in front of my parents, grandparents, and Uncle Zeke was really enjoyable, especially when Uncle Zeke asked why there was a naked guy on the front.”