Down by Contact (The Barons 2)

“I watched the YouTube clips,” Brayden countered. “You tackled him for no reason—”

True.

“Probably because you’re homophobic—”

Also true.

Adrián’s skin reddened. “That’s not—”

“And then you got mad that he stood up to you and started a fight. My mom said you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. It started as an aborted chuckle, but the stifled sound was even funnier, so before I knew it, loud guffaws were ripping out of my mouth. Adrián was so visibly furious that I laughed harder, my eyes tearing as I slapped my hand against my thigh.

“Now who’s not helping?” he demanded. “You know what? Screw this—no more getting to know you. We’re going to the goddamn park.”

Adrián strode across the room and grabbed a large net bag full of footballs. I caught his upper arm before he could make another move, which was a bold move given his death grill. For a moment, his dark eyes dropped to my hand then back to my face. It was slightly alarming, the possibility that he’d lose his shit right in this center in front of these kids, but I saw him collecting himself. Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, and looking damn attractive in the process.

“Be cool, man,” I said. “They’re just kids.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” He jerked his arm away from me and swept a steely glare over the kids. “Let’s go see what you can do.”

Adrián

They were awful.

Out of all twelve of them—a number that made no sense to me—only three could catch a football. Six of them didn’t feel comfortable tackling, and one kid was way too enthusiastic about it. We were gonna have to have a little chat with him later.

The worst part wasn’t even the lack of skill. I hadn’t expected we were gonna uncover the next Reggie White out in hipsterville. What had me on edge and ready to tell a thirteen-year-old some stuff about himself was their constant harping about grown folks’ business they had no idea about and had no reason to discuss. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the kids and their parents were all very aware that I was the asshole bully who’d wound up justly suspended, and Simeon was the popular gay QB with the heart of gold who’d been unfairly persecuted for defending himself.

Some of the kids had a little homophobia, which caused them to gravitate towards me, while the others sneered and stuck to Simeon. Our tiny crew—this amount of players legit made no kind of sense—was divided as hell.

“This isn’t gonna work.”

Simeon dumped the bag of balls in the corner after the kids had all cleared out for the day. “You’re quitting already?”

“Did I say that?”

“You just said it’s not gonna work. What the hell else did you mean?”

“I’m talking about the way these kids act,” I snapped. “They caught on to you thinking I’m a jackass and went right along with it. And you letting that Brayden punk get away with talking about the gay shit didn’t do us any favors either.”

“Adrián, the entire country knows I’m gay.”

“Okay, and . . . ?” I lowered my voice just as it rose, not wanting Yaritza to hear us arguing. Again. “You can’t let a kid start talking about your personal life, man. It opened up a whole Pandora’s box of bullshit—”

“Pandora’s box,” Simeon repeated.

“Yeah, man. Do you know what that is?” He pursed his lips at me, eyes narrowing, so I went on without waiting for a sign that he knew. “Anyways, we need some ground rules. No personal talk, no bullshit about the fight.”

“And no cursing,” he said.

“Okay, but if I have to watch my mouth then you need to lay off criticizing me in front of them. If you act like I’m a dumbass, then why should they listen to me?”

Simeon paused in his tidying with both big hands braced on the back of a chair. The muscles in his biceps were bulging out against his T-shirt from that position. I wondered if I also dwarfed all the furniture in the room, and if so, why these kids weren’t even the slightest intimidated. They’d had zero qualms about talking shit. I could almost respect it since I’d been exactly like them as a youth.

“All right, all right, you might be onto something there, partner.”

“I know I am. I’m smart as hell.”

“Okay, smart guy, then tell me what we’re going to do with these damn kids. I’m a little thrown for a fucking loop or twenty by all this. I seriously thought we’d have some help.” Simeon ran a hand through his hair, giving it a rumpled just-rolled-in-the-bed look. “Like, to be honest, I figured a real person would be in charge and we’d just hang out and toss the ball a few times.”