Down by Contact (The Barons 2)

Then I sat up and shoved him away so violently he fell backwards, nearly slamming his head into the table.

“What the fuck?”

He remained on the floor, not moving except for one hand that balled into a fist. He was staring at the ceiling but not speaking. I stood over him, breathing hard.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Simeon slowly raised his arm to rub it against his still damply glistening mouth. His jaw clenched.

“Bro, we were just fucking around,” I said. “You get that, right? It was just a game.”

Finally, he looked at me. And goddamn if he wasn’t trying to freeze my soul.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be—”

“I get it.” He pushed his shoulders against the floor and bounced to his feet in one movement. “Guess you won. Congrats.”

Simeon turned away, fixing his own clothes. I grabbed his shoulder, but he shoved my hand way.

“Come on, man. Don’t be that way.”

“I gotta go, Adrián.”

He strode out of the living room and to the front door as I followed.

“Dude, don’t be pissed. I’m just saying—”

Simeon cast me a scathing look over his shoulder. “Get your life, boy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chapter Nine

Adrián

The football program transitioned from a summer camp to an after-school program after August ended, which also signaled the official beginning of the NFL season. My time put in at the Center had been going on for three weeks already, and yet my official punishment by the NFL would be starting this week. Six games to go before I could put my pads on and charge out onto the field again.

I’d felt that loss every time I woke up in the morning during the summer to my own ceiling instead of the one at our training facility. Now, I felt it every time I looked at social media and saw my feed full of shit about the upcoming game. This coming Sunday my boys would be playing the Barons. That was going to make things with Simeon fun.

Not only did I have five more weeks of sitting with my thumb up my ass when I wasn’t trying to mold my sassy peewee players into miniature warriors, I had five more weeks of Simeon ignoring me at the Center.

“Are you excited for the schedule changing?” Yaritza sat behind her desk, printing out pages while nursing an iced coffee the size of her head. “We’re cutting it down to an hour after school twice a week with scrimmages on Saturdays.”

“Fuck yeah,” I said, sprawling in one of the chairs in her office. “I’m ready to be rid of these asshole paps that stay camped outside this place.”

“They’ll still be there,” she said, frowning. “But they’re supposed to stay a certain distance away, so at least it will be from afar. We had to put that in place after a mom just about went upside some photographer’s head when he knocked her kid down to get to you two.”

“I didn’t even know that happened.”

“That’s because Simeon smoothed it over by giving her season tickets.”

“Of course.”

Yaritza looked up from her computer. “Everything okay with you two?” At my blank stare, she held up her hands. “Hey, I’m not trying to act like a friend or even a confidante, but your shoulders have been so cold I just about get frostbite going into the rec room.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Well, maybe it’s in my head,” she said generously. “But . . . the kids have noticed. Delilah said practice isn’t as fun since you two decided to hate each other again.”

Since Simeon had decided to hate me again over a stupid shove. That was the accurate version of events. Each blank look and dismissive comment, each time he bounced out of the Center without saying good-bye, was a splinter lodging into my chest. It had literally been one week since the thing at my penthouse, but with nothing to do but work out or mess around on social media when we weren’t with the kids, it felt like more.

“There’s just some tension because of the game on Sunday.”

“What game?”

I sighed tragically. “You’re killing me, Yari.”

She smiled sweetly, and that’s when I knew she was fucking with me.

“Are you going?” she asked.

“Can’t. I’m not allowed to have contact with my coaches or even see other guys on the team while I’m suspended, so I plan to stay my ass in Brooklyn and watch from the comfort of my own hot tub all by my damn self.”

“Aw, poor thing. The struggle is so real. At least you have Simeon.”

“Yeah, thank God for that.”

I left her office only to nearly knock down Brayden and his father. I’d rarely been up close and personal with the guy because, unlike Simeon, I tried to keep my distance from the parents. The last thing I wanted was for them to think they had personal access to me or could suck up to me and become my buddy. That sense of unease was why I barely had any friends off my team. Even my boys from high school had changed once I’d begun starting and got the big contract.