Down by Contact (The Barons 2)

“It’s hard to be on the side of someone who wants to sabotage himself over a make-believe grudge. You think Simeon gave away all your plays a few years back? Tough shit, Bravo. That happens to every team when they stick a solid player on their practice squad and cut ’em loose. If they’re not utilizing them, someone else will. And you also don’t know if that’s what happened.”

Wow, this dude was really not sounding like he was on my side.

“And I’ve frankly had it with your antics when it comes to Simeon and the Barons in general. The crap in Ibiza, the digs at press conferences that turn into media circuses, all the social media trash talk like teenage boys, and your comments to Fox? I saw through them even before he tweeted.” Casey hunched forward and gave me a glare my mother must have taught him before she and my dad gave him the Bravo stamp of approval. “You’re an amazing linebacker, you have great endorsements, fans love you, women throw their underwear at you wherever you go, your coaches adore you, but you’re too easily riled up by other people on your team.”

“What people?” I asked pointlessly, since I knew who he meant.

“You know who.”

Sighing, I leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Rocky Swoops, a Predators safety, had a major hard-on for our rivals. He hated that they were so much better regarded than us, but he made everything worse by going at them every chance he got. I knew he was a big dumbass, and my mother called him a devil on a regular basis, but it was hard to deny that his animosity was catching sometimes. The whole Ibiza thing had been his fault. He’d thrown a glass at Simeon at a club, and Gavin had just about taken his head off.

Come to think of it, Gavin was consistently protective of ole Sims. Maybe they were sleeping together. Huh. I wondered who would be fucking who in that scenario. I was gonna put my bets on Simeon getting railed by Gavin. Judging from what I’d heard about the video, he liked being used.

“Adrián.”

Clearing my throat, I shifted in my seat and ran a hand through my hair. “What?”

“You know this won’t end well for you, right?”

I looked at him sideways. “What’s that mean?”

“It means the League is tired of all of this bullshit. Both your coaches are tired of this nonsense. And the fallout was more than you two looking like giant toddlers rolling around on the field. Simeon, their starting quarterback, hurt his throwing arm.”

Guilt swamped me so abruptly that I sat up straight. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Shit. Man, I didn’t mean to actually hurt the guy.” I looked down at my sneakers and scuffed the carpet. “Do you think I should make a statement? Or . . . I dunno. Call him?”

“Call Simeon and apologize. That’s your plan?”

“Well, what the hell else should I do?”

“I think you should make a statement, Adrián. Saying you understand why you’re being suspended starting now, and for six games from the season—”

“What?”

“And understand why me and Simeon’s agent, since he’s also suspended for six games, are asking you to do a two-month joint stint at a Brooklyn community center working with their new youth football league. While you’re suspended, you won’t be allowed to train with us or come to any games, so you’ll have plenty of time to get good photo ops with Simeon and adorable children. It will improve your reputation.”

He was messing with me. There was no other option.

“Casey, this isn’t funny.”

“I know. Do I look amused?”

He looked like the same humorless bastard as usual. My heart sank, and for the first time in a long time I completely regretted my actions. There were times when I’d made mistakes in my life, but I’d always found a way to explain away why I’d done something. The fight in Ibiza had happened because I was trying to have my boy’s back. I snarked on social media because my fans loved my sense of humor and asshole qualities. I had a bad habit of breaking hearts because there was no way I could have a real relationship right now and trust that whoever I got with wasn’t just after my cash.

But this? I couldn’t think of a way to explain this shit away.

Why had I gone straight for the veiled gay jokes with that dumbass reporter? Why had I kept watching Simeon on the field and trying to figure out a way to get a shot at him, instead of paying attention to the damn game? And why the hell had I actually done it and then stayed parked on top of him until he’d reacted?

He’s an asshole was starting to hold little weight when that line of reasoning was getting me suspended.