Down by Contact

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Down by Contact Page 17

by Santino Hassell


  “This is Brooklyn, man. You know how many out-and-proud gay dudes who are all big and jacked up there are round these parts? Get serious.” Another booming laugh, this one tinged with derision. “Now don’t get me wrong, do not get me wrong . . . Bravo is a good-looking man, but there’s a few major flaws with this here rumor. First off—I don’t fuck with football players. There’s only so much testosterone I can take, and I got enough.”

  A collective laugh went up from the reporters.

  “Second—Bravo is straighter than my granddaddy, and Paw Paw was a pastor.”

  The laugh grew.

  “Third . . . Y’all really think I forgot what that fool did to me?”

  I sucked in a slow breath.

  “Yeah, we’re working together right now and sharing meals, but that’s because we’re colleagues. We’re professionals. We have to plan for these doggone kids, and we’re taking it seriously. Other than that? It’s a wrap after we go back to work. I can be a man and treat him like an equal, but Adrián Bravo won’t never be nothing to me but yet another bigot. And nothing in the world will make me forget that.”

  He’d planned to say these things. I knew he had, and I knew he didn’t mean all of it, even if I deserved his lifelong scorn. But deep down, he was right. And he wouldn’t forget what I’d done and said.

  And it would be hard to come back from my actions and the declaration he was making in front of the world.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Simeon

  “I guess you can say I’m disappointed with how things turned out.”

  I was shirtless and drenched with sweat in the middle of my gym, a complete contrast to Mel in her sharp suit and tall black heels. With her towering over me, tall and strong and exuding irritation, I felt like a little kid who’d let his parent down. After speaking to my mother and auntie the previous night, the feeling was familiar. Except they’d watched my speech on whatever network they’d watched it on, and hadn’t believed a word of it.

  They’d known I was half in love with that “little Puerto Rican boy” as my five-foot-nothing mama liked calling him. She thought his dimples were so cute, even if he needed to be “smacked in the face with a dick.” God, I missed her.

  “Simeon, stop spacing out.”

  “Sorry.” I went back to unlacing my sneakers. My socks were drenched with sweat after the grueling workout my trainer had put me through. “I don’t know what to say. They were trying to drag him, and I was trying to help.”

  “Trying to help by calling him a bigot on a clip that would inevitably go viral?”

  My stomach twisted. It’d been a week since my big disavowal of an alleged relationship between me and Adrián Bravo. A week since Yaritza had asked us to take the week off until the drama and media circus died down, and a week since I’d spoken to Adrián.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” I said quietly.

  “Really? His agent called me screaming like someone had just snipped his balls. I never knew Casey Rose’s voice could go that high.”

  Swallowing thickly, I kicked off one shoe and switched to the other. “Do you want me to apologize?”

  “You may have to if we’re going to get this situation back under control. The League isn’t thrilled either, although they’re smart enough to understand why you said what you said. The Barons and the Predators are playing again in Week fourteen—”

  “Oh my fucking God, I forgot about that.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. It was several weeks away, but it was still far too soon, when I hadn’t anticipated seeing Adrián on the field again until the next season.

  “No one else has. That’s why the NFL is disappointed their plan to patch things up between your teams and hopefully lessen the aggression between fans didn’t go well.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “I did what everyone wanted, right? Would they prefer I kept my mouth shut and let everyone know Adrián is bisexual?”

  Mel crossed her arms over her chest. “So, the picture was of the two of you.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. You said you didn’t want everyone to know Adrián is bisexual.”

  Replaying my own words didn’t make it any less true. Abandoning my laces, I slumped forward with my head in my hands. “I screw everything up.”

  “No, you don’t. But honey . . . you don’t think before you act or speak, even when your heart is in the right place.” Mel put a hand on my head, tilting my face up. “Now listen to me. I’m arranging for some photographers to hang out around the Center this week. It won’t be a media circus,” she hastily added when I shook my head. “And they’ll be stationed at the field for your last scrimmage with the kids. It’s important for them to see there are no hard feelings between you and Adrián.”

  “Did you clear this with the Center and did they clear it with the parents?”

  “They’re in the process of doing so now.”

  I kicked off my shoe. “And you’re sure Adrián is gonna be there?”

  “Casey said he was. Besides, Adrián Bravo doesn’t strike me as the type of person to not finish what he started.”

  She was right, and I hoped it was true.

  I crawled into the bathtub after Mel left, soaking in the water and willing my body to relax. It wasn’t likely to happen, but between the tension in my back and neck, and my constant teeth grinding, headaches had plagued me for days. My every thought and dream were full of nightmare scenarios where Adrián was harassed by his teammates due to Rocky egging them on, where he lost his endorsements, and also where he blamed me for it all. Regretted our game and our talks, and the way fucking had subtly shifted to simply wanting to spend time together. To maybe extending us spending time together beyond the end of our coaching at the Center.

  The security system chimed, signaling Hendricks was home. In the past, if we had a night we’d take the opportunity to go out. Now, he spent a lot of time at Jasmine’s house and only went home to chill. Kicking back and taking it easy had never been my thing when there were so many hot queer dudes and easily conquered straight dudes to plow through the next morning, but now I could see the appeal. Especially if Adrián was kicking back with me.

  “Knock, knock,” Marcus hollered. His footsteps boomed up the stairs. “Where you at?”

  “In the bath!”

  Marcus barreled in with Gavin right on his heels. Gavin had a black eye and a broken nose from the previous week’s game, but it didn’t seem to faze him. The dude was a warrior. If there was such thing as reincarnation, I was positive he’d been a fucking Viking or a Spartan in a previous life.

  “What you need an ice bath for?” Marcus demanded. “You’ve been sitting on your ass for weeks.”

  “Fuck you. My trainer’s been tearing my ass up for weeks in preparation for me hitting the turf again next week.”

  Gavin sprawled on the sleek silver couch, long legs extending so far they still nearly reached the tub. But even with three football players in the room, it was still the size of Adrián’s master bedroom. The contrast of his apartment to the mansion I shared with Marcus was ridiculous, but . . . I liked the space. I liked the grounds, the pool, the personal bowling alley and movie room, and the fact that my bathroom was basically a spa. I’d been waiting for the time when I could invite Adrián back and take him on a tour, but that was likely never going to happen.

  “How’s fuckboy?”

  I sank lower in the water, but it was just a tub of ice so it did nothing to cover me. “Stop calling him that.”

  “Why?” Gavin demanded shrewdly. “He your boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Then why do you care?”

  “Because he’s not that bad, all right, man? I told you before.”

  Gavin, rubbing his thumb over his split lip, glared at me. “I hate when transparent people think they can lie and tha
t I’m stupid enough to believe it.”

  Marcus laughed. I sneered at them both.

  “Fine. You want me to admit it?” I kicked the button to drain the bath and threw a leg over the side. “We were starting to like each other, and that stupid picture was of us.”

  “So his bisexual cat is out of his bisexual bag?” Marcus asked. “Guess he’ll figure out how it feels now.”

  I snatched my towel and wrapped it around my waist, scowling. “Funny you should say that, M. I thought I wanted him to know how I felt, but now I just feel awful that he’s in this position. When it comes down to it, I don’t want him to be ostracized from his team. Can you fucking imagine how training camp would have been if the Barons were less tolerant?” I asked Gavin. “The jokes would have been unreal, and your ass would have been upside someone’s head on day one.”

  “That is a fact,” Marcus said. “Some dudes acted a little funny, but at the end of the day most people didn’t really talk about it.”

  “I told that to Noah, and he said them pretending it never happened is also a microaggression,” Gavin said. “I want to fuck the shit out of him when he starts ranting about social justice. Is that normal?”

  “That’s how I get when Jasmine does it, so I vote yes.”

  Marcus and Gavin gave each other pound, grinning. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the bathroom. “I don’t have the guts for y’all’s happy-and-in-love shit right now.”

  “Because your boy Bravo doesn’t want to be happy and in love with you?” Marcus asked. “We were trying to comb social media for clues, but his accounts have been ghost town. Not a word about anything since you dismissed the rumor that you were bumping NFL uglies.”

  I’d noticed the same thing and hadn’t known what to make of it.

  “I’ve never seen you this bummed out,” Gavin said. “I’m starting to think you’re legit in love with this guy despite him being an actual worse asshole than me.”

  “He’s not that bad,” I said sharply. “You guys don’t even know him.”

  They exchanged looks while I yanked up my underwear. I knew exactly what they were thinking. Not only did I sound like a cliché, I was validating their suspicions.

  “Fine, you want the truth?”

  “Duh,” Marcus said.

  I glared. “I like him. A lot. And if the situation was different and our careers weren’t riding on us making too many waves, I’d probably be looking to pursue an actual relationship with him.”

  “Why? Just because you had some good sex?”

  “No, it’s not just the sex. It’s—” I spun around, looking for my sweatpants. “Besides you two and my family, I don’t spend a lot of time with anyone. I don’t trust anyone anymore. And even before that shit happened, I didn’t think I could have a relationship without worrying someone was in it for my cash. After you two found people I started having hope for myself, but . . . you know how hard it is to meet people. Like really meet people.”

  “Yeah, I know. That was my struggle for years.” Marcus was at least sympathetic as he sat on the edge of my bed. “But you really think Bravo is . . . good enough for you? I’m not blowing smoke up your ass when I say as far as rich-ass athletes go, you’re top-notch. One of the nicest cats I’ve ever met.”

  “It’s true,” Gavin said. “It’s disgusting.”

  I tugged up my sweatpants with a snap of the elastic against my waist. Their worried looks made me smile, and I remembered why they were being so overprotective. Less to do with giving me a hard time and more to do with them just worrying about me like they always did.

  “If you really like him . . .”

  I shook my head. “Nope, we’re not going there. I have a snowball’s chance in hell of having anything with Adrián Bravo but a quick fuck at random when we’re in the same hotel during the season. And even then, I’d be too terrified of someone seeing us together.”

  “You’d be terrified? Not him?”

  “That’s the funny thing. He seemed ready to let the world know the truth last week. It was me who rushed out to tell them it was all a lie.”

  Gavin’s jaw dropped. Just like that, I could see his gears churning and him reevaluating the entire situation. And Adrián himself. Deciding to come out had been gut-wrenching for both of us, and we’d ultimately done it to take the situation into our own hands. Also, with Gavin, because he’d wanted a life with Noah.

  Adrián had been willing to do the same, and I’d put a stop to it, because I didn’t want to be responsible for his downfall.

  For the first time, I wondered how he’d felt about me taking matters into my own hands.

  Adrián

  I got to the Center early, hoping to regain my bearings before Simeon arrived, but he was already there. That strong body was beautifully showcased in a pair of thin joggers and a baseball T-shirt that made it clear his shoulders were in competition for width with the football field.

  “Hey,” I said.

  His eyes lit up, face creasing with a big smile. There was no way he’d meant the things he’d said if he was looking at me this way. I refused to believe it, no matter what the voice in the back of my head was whispering. And my own teammates who’d been texting me nonstop about him calling me out after I’d “manned up and put in work with his gay ass for almost two months.”

  And I’d bit my tongue and stayed quiet. Like a coward.

  “How’ve you been?” he asked, shrugging off his backpack and stepping into the rec room. “I haven’t heard from you.”

  “It’s not like you tried to reach out.”

  “I know.” Simeon closed the door to the rec room and leaned against it. “I thought maybe . . . you needed some space from me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said a bunch of awful things about you in front of journalists.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. And they were true.”

  Simeon’s generous mouth flattened into a line. He glanced at the windows then at the clock before jerking his head at the storage room. “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Just come on. I don’t want anyone busting in on us.”

  The chances of that were slim since the rec center was rarely used at this time of day, and Yaritza was having a meeting with some of the new counselors. Even so, I followed him and shut the door once we were both inside.

  He leaned heavily against the opposite wall, a glimmer of sunlight from the high thin window illuminating the red and golden highlights in his hair. When he flashed that crooked smile, abashed and almost shy, the knot that had formed in my chest over the past week dissolved.

  “Fuck, I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, boo.” His crooked smile grew. “Seems silly, eh? Suddenly a week of not talking is hard.”

  “It’s not silly. We went from straight up walking on sunshine to being cold-turkey cut off from each other.”

  “Does that mean you were suffering from Boudreaux withdrawal?”

  “Yeah. It does. Sex aside, I missed you, dude. I never expected you to be at the top of my favorites, but you’re the one I want to text or call anytime anything hap—”

  Simeon crossed the distance between us in one step and pushed me up against the door. My lips eased into a grin, hands going up to his shoulders. All the darkness in this storage closet was swept away by the power of him softly brushing our mouths together. It was barely anything, but I moaned against him with shaking hands and a galloping heart.

  I flicked my tongue out, coaxing his to slide against mine, and gladly lost my mind to the feel of him exploring my mouth. He leaned into me harder, causing the door to slam in the frame. It was hard to care with his crotch pressing against mine as his hands slid down to grip my ass while I tangled my fingers in his hair.

  There was so much I wanted to do to him before this day ended. Our last ti
me at the Center together. Our last reason to spend time alone together. But all I could do was worship his mouth and wish for unattainable nonsense.

  “You’re making this so hard, Bravo.”

  I tilted my head against the door, breathing hard as he mouthed kisses along my jaw and down my neck. “What?”

  “Trying not to catch feelings.”

  “I thought we agreed it was too late for that.”

  Simeon’s laugh rumbled in my ears. “You said it was too late. I was still trying to play myself like this was just us fucking, and it would be okay to say bye-bye.”

  I grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his face back to mine. He instantly leaned in for another kiss, and I was too weak to dodge it. We needed to have words, but right now I couldn’t handle not having his taste in my mouth and his hands on my body. The desperate sound I released when he pulled away would have been shameful if I had any shame about how badly I wanted him.

  “Kids are gonna be here soon,” he panted against me. “And I’m really fucking hard, so maybe we should stop.”

  “Will you come over after the scrimmage?”

  Simeon’s eyes flicked down. I gripped him tighter.

  “Please? I can’t—I just . . . I just need to extend this a little bit longer.”

  “It’s not a good idea,” he whispered.

  “I don’t give a fuck. I need you, Simeon. I dream about you. Just let me have this before you cut me off.”

  His gaze snapped up to me again. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lower lip trembled and no sound came out. I kissed him again, hard.

  “Okay,” he breathed. “I’ll come over.”

  It took every ounce of self-control I had to drag myself away from him, and all the thoughts of what I wanted to do to him, and prepare for the game.

  To the kids’ credits, they all acted completely normal, except for Brayden, who couldn’t quite meet my eyes. I refused to discuss the situation with a kid, or to pull him aside and tell him that what he did was okay, so I settled for treating him the same as always. Pointers on the game peppered in with wise-cracks about his less-frequent-than-usual wisecracks until everything seemed normal.

 

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