“Oh, that’s thoughtful. But isn’t it a little presumptuous to be planning your celebrations already?” I asked.
“You’ve seen us play, you know we’re gonna win,” he said, winking. I rolled my eyes, laughing. The Nashville Nasties were a pretty solid team, though they were significantly better at defense than offense. It was probably going to be a close game with only a handful of points. Points Brooker was confident he’d get.
“What happens if we don’t win?”
Brooker’s smile widen, eyes twinkling with either joy or mischief, I didn’t know him well enough to tell which.
“You said we.”
“Oh, that was just —” I started to say, feeling a sting of embarrassment for saying I was a part of the team as a PA.
“No, it’s good! You’re a part of the team, too.”
Was it stupid that him saying that made me get all teary-eyed? Maybe. But the Dastards as an organization meant a lot to me and to be told I was a part of the team was … it was everything. Plus I’ve barely slept between Kean’s list and trying to beat this event’s donation goals, so the tears were more than ready to go.
“Thank you, Brooker. Really. That —” But before I could finish expressing my gratitude, Brooker was yanked by the shoulder.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kean shouted at his teammate, yanking the man so hard he spun a full 180 degrees. “I told you to forget about it.”
“Woah, woah, dude, no. You’ve got the wrong idea,” Brooker said, waving his hands up in surrender.
“So she’s just crying for no reason?” Kean scoffed and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. This guy’s grumpiness had hit a new apex this week with his short responses, weird stiffness whenever we were in the same room, and being just generally unpleasant. And yet somehow, he felt the need to defend my honor or some shit.
And as I was rolling my eyes, I caught a couple of ladies, specifically the ones I’d told off, holding their phones up to record the scene.
“Shit,” I hissed under my breath before stepping around Brooker to grab at Kean’s elbow. “Stop fighting with your teammate in public at acharityevent.”
“He made you cry,” Kean said, like I was the idiot.
“He didn’t make mesad. Just included.”
“Included?” Kean repeated, grip loosening on Brooker. The other man used the opportunity to step away, his shirt slipping through Kean’s fingers.
“I was just saying she’s a part of the team so, like, if she wanted to come out with us for post-win parties, she’s invited.”
Kean’s eyes had softened but snapped right back to a glare when Brooker brought up a party.
“I told you —” he started but I stepped in between him and Brooker.
“He was being nice. Jeez, Kean. Do you know how to do that or were you raised by wolves?”
“Or Air Bud,” Brooker piped up from behind me and I fought the urge to elbow him in the stomach.
“He wasn’t being nice, he was trying to …” Kean’s jaw tightened as he quieted.
“I was being friendly. You know, just like we talked about.”
“I saidno.”
“Sure, but like, you need the help.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, then why’d you come over here like a possessed caveman?”
“You made her cry!”
“Happy tears! I’d like to see you do that. I bet you couldn’t even get her to cry —” Brooker stopped abruptly, biting his tongue just as Kean took a step closer to him, eyes darkening. “I’ll stop talking.”
