Page 38 of Hard Count
“You’ve heard me speak Spanish.”
“A few times. On the phone a couple times but that doesn’t count.”
Noah said, “Quiero que estés a mi lado.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not telling you.”
“Noah.”
“Look it up.”
“I’m not going to look it up.”
“Then you don’t get to know.”
“Teach me something.”
“You want to learn Spanish now.”
“I want to learn one thing.”
“What thing?”
Piper thought about it.
“Something you want to do to me right now.”
Noah was quiet for a second. Then he gave a mischievous smirk.
“Okay.”
“Repeat after me. Quiero follarte hasta reventarte el cerebro.”
Piper tried. He got it wrong at first. Noah corrected him, and Piper said it again, and then a third time.
“Tell me what it means.”
“Not yet.”
“Noah, what does it fucking mean?”
“Just learn it, Google Translate is a thing. Good night, sexy.”
“Good night, Noah.”
Chapter Sixteen: Los Angeles
Nobody complained this deep into the season, because complaining about extra reps was how you told a coach you’d stopped caring about winning. Piper never complained anyway. He threw until his arm felt like it was about to break off in the most gruesome fashion possible.
Most of the team had left practice already. Training staff were packing up for the day.
Piper sat at his locker, his phone sat on the bench like it might bite him if he looked at it directly.
The phone buzzed.
He picked it up, it was Noah.
