Down by Contact (The Barons 2)

“He smiles at his do-gooder,” Simeon said. “Just like you get all cuddly and sweet with your QB.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “I’m still waiting for that giant Facebook post about how amazing of a boyfriend I am.”

“Jasmine is helping me draft it, but she thinks boyfriend is too casual, since we’re living together now.”

“True that. How about . . . companion? Lover?” I handed a drink to another donor, grinning widely. “Hey, question for you—”

The lady raised her eyebrows, looking from me to Simeon in shock. “For me?”

“Yup.” I leaned forward, popping my dimples. “Do you think I should call Simeon my boyfriend or my companion?”

“Oh good Lord.” Simeon looked up at the sky. “Someone please save this man from his self.”

The woman burst out laughing. “How about partner? Or soul mate?”

“Soul mate!” Simeon crowed just as I said, “Partner works.” We looked at each other and snickered before he threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a half hug.

She looked between us and laughed again. “You two are adorable.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the photogs snapping away. They lived for this shit. And shockingly, the NFL was loving all the feel-good publicity that our collective queerness had brought on. I’d expected to lose endorsements or for my agent to struggle trying to save my career, but . . . it seemed like the world was evolving more rapidly than I’d given it credit for. And at the end of the day, even if I’d had to cut my losses and move on, Simeon was worth it. Our new life together was worth it.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked, nudging me. “If you’re making big plans for what we’re gonna do after the cookout . . . keep in mind the boys are coming over.”

“So you gotta stay quiet while I fu—”

Simeon’s brows crashed down. “No, sir. Keep it discreet or keep it shut.”

I laughed. “I was kidding anyway. That’s not why I was smiling.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup. I was smiling because I’m happy.” I glanced at our parents again, unable to help another grin as Joanne pointed to the grill and schooled my father on how he was overcooking the meat. “This is in the top three best days of my life.”

Simeon greeted another donor, quickly scribbling off an autograph. “I’m right there with you, boo. But what are your other two?”

“The day I was drafted,” I said quickly. “And . . . finding out I was gonna be stuck working with you for two months. If it wasn’t for that, none of this would have happened. We’d still be stubborn assholes who hated each other. Well, I’d be an asshole.”

“I don’t know about all that. Soul mates have a way of finding each other.” Simeon managed to not crack up for all of five seconds before breaking. “All right, Noah said that to me, but he’s right. I think we would have found each other. Once you took your head out your ass.”

“I dunno. It was pretty far up there.”

“I’m glad you know that, but either way . . .” Simeon glanced around just as I had a moment ago, and the smile on his face was so warm that it was hard not to drop the drinks and pull him close. “You and me belong together, Adrián Bravo. There’s no way either of us could have wound up with anyone else.”

He was right. I knew he was right.

So I smiled back and, audience be damned, pulled him into a kiss.