Free Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) by Celia Aaron, Sloane Howell Page A

together.
    “We’re supposed to be boys. You should’ve told me. That shit ain’t cool.”
    “Hey, E?” I tilted my head up to the big fucker with as serious a face as I could muster.
    “Yeah, what’s up?”
    “I fucked Kasey last night.” I maintained my composure as he leered in my direction. “It’s true. Every word. Turned her straight. She loves the D now.” It became harder not to burst into laughter, but I had to keep a straight face. For the good of the land.
    “I’m being serious.” He ripped his jacket out of the locker and tucked it up under his arm.
    “I’m dead serious. It was a little weird at first, because I kept seeing your face when I would look at her. But I just closed my eyes and went with it.”
    His big heavy cleat nearly ripped the carpet from the floor as he spun to walk away.
    “Aww, come on, man. If we can’t joke about me fucking your gay sister then what do we have left? Nothing . That’s what. It’s like a goddamn convent in here.” I slapped the other shin guard against my leg and began strapping it up.
    Easton turned back around, apparently still pissed. “This is serious. You know they don’t fuck around once the ‘t word’ starts getting tossed around. And what about Nik? I should beat your ass for that. She’s devastated. And I don’t give a shit how many times you called her your slut last night. It doesn’t make it all better.” He cracked a slight grin at his final two sentences.
    I held my fist out. “Give it up.”
    “Respect.” He tapped my knuckles and we both grinned.
    “I’m being for real about the other stuff though. You have to talk to me. We can figure this out, together.” His hands went to his hips like an angry wife as he scolded me.
    Ramirez walked around the corner just in time to catch the end of our conversation and see Easton standing there like a desperate housewife. He stopped dead in his tracks and held both his hands up.
    Easton whipped his head around and shot him a glare. “What? A couple guys can’t talk out a compromise in the locker room? This is conflict resolution 101. It says so in this book I’ve been read—” He froze and squeezed his eyes shut.
    Ramirez and I both glanced to each other and shook our heads back and forth. Then we both eyed the gigantic woman standing between us.
    “Reading what?” I smirked.
    Easton’s face turned pinker than Nik’s pussy. “Fuck you guys.”
    Ramirez scratched his chin. “Hey E, speaking of that, I’ve been meaning to ask you a question.”
    I waited for the punchline. Ramirez was a jokester like us, and his shit was usually gold.
    “What’s that?” Easton sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.
    “Do you ever use that subscribe feature on Amazon?” Ramirez’s face was stone cold. He nearly made me a believer.
    Easton wrinkled his nose and leaned in as though he didn’t hear the question. “Umm, no. Why?”
    “You can save like five dollars a month on your tampons if you subscribe. I’m being for real right now. My girl does that shit. It gets me like two extra beers a month at happy hour. You should look into it.” His deadpan delivery had me on the brink of a full-blown seizure while I tried not to laugh.
    Easton balled his hands into fists and I noticed a vein bulging from his neck. Ramirez held his hands up once more as a peace offering. He walked over toward Easton as if it were an Aaron Sorkin style monologue.
    “You think I’m teasing you, but I’m not.” He stopped in front of Easton and began showing signs that he might break character, twitching slightly, but somehow he maintained. His head tilted up to meet Easton’s eyes as Easton’s chest started to rise and fall in heavy waves. “They’ll deliver that shit right to the clubhouse if you put the address in.” Ramirez glanced over at me and flipped two fingers up at me. “In two days if you got Prime shipping.” He turned back to Easton. “Extra heavy flow tampons in two days, man. You