Down by Contact (The Barons 2)

“So, I’m supposed to die of fucking heartbreak? Pretend I have no one in my life or that I have no family, because you can be damn sure I’m spending my holidays with him. Not you evil people.”

She scoffed and sounded so much like my mother it was eerie. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m saying, though! How come I get to meet his mother, and he can never meet mine?”

Heavy silence followed his plaintive question. I pressed my face to his neck, trying to soothe away the anger I could feel building inside him and wanting him to know he had me, my family, my friends.

“Ay dios . . .” A gusty sigh broke through the line. “Okay, querido. Let me speak to your father.”

Adrián sagged against me, a big muscular marionette whose strings had been cut. “Thanks, Mami. I love you.”

“I love you too, Adrián.” A pause. “And I support your relationship with my son, Simeon.”

I sat up straight. “Sorry, Mrs. Bravo. I swear I just walked in a few seconds ago.”

“Mmhm. In any case, thank you for forgiving his behavior. We didn’t raise him to be a bully.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, Mrs. Bravo.”

Adrián’s jaw dropped. “Geez. Already bonding over my bad behavior.”

I nudged him and kept talking. “Also, I know it won’t be easy for your family. My own had . . . a rough time when I came out. So, if you ever want to talk to anyone . . .” Volunteering my mother to be someone’s queer mom counselor was suicide, but I rushed out, “Maybe you could reach out to my mother?”

“Maybe I’ll do that. Thank you for the suggestion. You’re much sweeter than my troublemaker deserves.”

“Wow,” Adrián muttered. “Already you’re the favorite.”

We laughed and hung up after she said her farewell. Adrián went slack against me, his big body weighing me down until we thumped against the carpet all wound together.

“Ugh, that was awful.”

“She seemed supportive. I don’t know about your father, though.”

“My father will probably ice me out. No lie.”

My instinct was to object for no reason other than to soothe him, but I didn’t. He was probably right, at least for a few years. If I judged by the reactions of some of the men, and the more religious people, in my own family, people tended to act betrayed to find out they share blood with a queer. Like it would infect them. Or worse, that we’d somehow tricked them into thinking we were normal. It was really telling how some people viewed us as subhuman.

“Your father seems like an ass, anyway.”

“True.” Adrián sighed against the side of my face. “I’m glad you were here.”

“So you could indirectly declare your love for me?”

“Heh. Yeah, that too. So, am I moving in or what? I could fuck with a bowling alley and an Olympic pool and blowjobs every morning.”

The laugh that rushed out of me was full of relief and incredulity. He was so ridiculous. So fucking absurd. And I loved him. I absolutely loved him. It didn’t even matter that I’d hated him not even three months ago. What mattered now is that it was hard to sleep without him in my bed, and the very idea of moving on without him had the capacity to tear apart my heart.

“So, you’re just in it for the dick-sucking?”

“And the ass-fucking.”

I bit his ear, eliciting a low moan instead of a pained yelp. “I want you to move in, but not now. After the Super Bowl.”

“Duh. No one was trying to pack boxes between games every week.”

“I like how this is turning into the most unromantic chain of events ever.”

“Simeon, we started fucking as a dare. We’re not romantic.”

I bit him again, relishing the way my linebacker, the one who was on his way to bypassing NFL records for most sacks and interceptions, reacted to such a minor touch. Maybe I’d use it against him on the field when our teams played next week.

“I dunno. You’re kind of romantic. After you come out, I think I’m going to write a big ole Facebook post about how sweet you are on the downlow.”

Adrián, of course, loved this idea. “Bet. I’ll pose for selfies being cute as fuck. Turn it into a book and make bank.”

“Lord Jesus. Forget it. You ruined it.”

I got to my feet. He smacked my ass.

“Come on. My mom is about to flip when she sees I bought stuffing from some restaurant on Long Island, and I’ll have to talk her down by telling her I saved the giblets and drippings for gravy.”

“What about the rest of your crew?”

The door beeped to signal Marcus’s arrival with Jasmine, Noah, and Gavin. Adrián groaned again, louder, and I knew it was at the thought of eating a meal while Gavin Brawley gave him the ice grill all night. Thankfully, Noah had promised to run interception.