Someone would tell.
Someone would take pictures.
Someone would see.
“Are you crazy?”
“Hear me out.”
I sighed and got onto the team bus that would take me to The Westin where we were staying. “Okay, but it’s going to take a lot of convincing.”
“I know, but this club is exclusive.”
“What does that mean?”
“Everyone signs an NDA, and you have to be invited to attendandtested for STDs before you can enter.”
“And?” I questioned as I took a seat in the back. No one was on the bus, not even the driver yet.
“And you can come and be safe and be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“No, you’re not truly happy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve known you for a decade, and I know you’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Slate. Everyone needs love.”
“And you think I’ll find that at”—I lowered my voice in case someone got on the bus—“a sex club?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s a way to experience what you truly desire and still keep it a secret.”
“And you think I can sneak away to Beverly Hills to do this?”
“When you’re in town. I know you play the Dodgers and Angels a lot.” We did because we were in the same division. “Plus, it’s only once a month, and we can plan this for you at the right time.”
“How will I even get an invite?”
“I’m going to go this Saturday and see what it’s all about. If I like it, I’m going to join, and then you can be my guest.”
“You make it sound so easy.” The bus driver stepped onto the bus, and I knew it was almost time to go.
“I bet itiseasy. You just need to figure out if you’re a top or bottom.”
I grunted and started to laugh. “You’re too much.”
“For the record, I think you’d be a top, not a bottom. No, a top with a muscular man.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Think about it.”
“I will.”
