Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“You’re right there, bud.”
Practice went on for another thirty minutes before we gathered all the balls and trooped back to the Center. A couple of parents were already there, the more hovery ones, including Brayden’s father. The dude gave me the heebs, but I was loath to say anything about it since I had no real reason to fend him off. Just a general vibe of creepiness as he hung around longer than was necessary, drawing out conversation with Simeon, before hauling Brayden off like he was a sack of potatoes that wasn’t moving fast enough.
And then there was Nicole’s mother, who insisted on flirting with us both, much to her daughter’s horror.
Yeah, parents weren’t fun.
“We made it,” I said, once they were all gone and the rec room was cleaned up. “And that one week felt like a month.”
“Tell me about it. I’m ready to eat and crash. Fuck partying.”
“Not getting any dick this weekend?”
“You’re pretty obsessed with my sex life.”
“Nah. I just don’t know shit else about you other than the fact that you like dick.”
Simeon slid his hands into his pockets and strolled out of the room while I trailed behind him. “Untrue, dumbass. You know more about me than a lot of the dudes on my team. I never talk about my fam.”
“So why’d you talk about it with me?”
“Because I’m stuck with you, so we may as well talk about something.”
“True.”
We waved at Sheila and stepped out onto the sidewalk, breathing in deep as a warm breeze blew down the block. It was a perfect New York summer afternoon. No humidity, low eighties, breezy, and in this part of Brooklyn the trees gave a lot of shade. Made me want to go score a good spot at the park and lay out, but I was always too paranoid to do it alone. For all I knew, some asshole anti-Predators fan would set my ass on fire.
“I’m about to get some grub. I’m starving.”
Simeon started to answer but his jaw cracked with a yawn, causing his eyes to tear. He raised his arms in a back-cracking stretch. His T-shirt rode up and exposed a long stretch of brown skin a couple shades darker than my own and a ripped stomach. I knew he was shredded just on account of him being an athlete, but seeing all that exposed skin was still disconcerting. Like he was doing an unintentional striptease.
Fuck, I needed to stop.
“I should cab it back to Westhampton, but sitting in a car while stuck in traffic makes me fucking nuts,” he said, still yawning. “I should have rented a spot over here.”
“Shoulda coulda,” I said unhelpfully. “Wanna grab some food before your journey? I could fuck me up some pancakes right about now.”
“Oh shit, that sounds good. With maple syrup and bacon and potatoes. Mmmmm.”
Simeon rubbed his stomach, and I watched, wondering if he’d flash some skin again. God, I was messed up in the head.
“There’s a diner a few blocks away. Overrun by hipsters, but it’s good shit.”
Part of me half expected him to remember I was the douche bag who’d mocked him on national television before picking a fight and getting us both put on leave for half the season, but he didn’t. He just shot me one of his winning Boudreaux smiles.
“Let’s do it.”
Chapter Six
Simeon
The diner was empty, which I took as a good sign. So far commuting had been okay except for a few autographs signed here or there, but I wasn’t ready to be packed into a small space with a bunch of strangers while eating. Everything was always so damn hectic that eating was my down time. I didn’t even like dinner parties because I preferred my meals in silence, unless I was with Marcus or Gavin. Call it a byproduct of growing up with constant-noise family dinners and no time to think or breathe.
Adrián snagged a booth in a far corner and plopped down with his back to the wall. He took off his fitted cap and shook out his dark hair, scratching his fingers through it before running them over his scruff. He wasn’t looking as polished as he usually did during the season, and I dug it.
He caught me looking and leered.
“What do you think the gossip rags would say if they saw us now?”
“Probably make it sound like I’m cheating on Gavin with your dumbass.”
Adrián’s eyes opened wide. “What? You’re fucking Brawley?”
“Nah, man. But they like to imply we are, just because they think two faggots can’t be buds without occasionally clicking together like Legos.”
“Bad analogy, man. Like awful.”
I snapped open the menu and put it up so I wouldn’t have to see his mournful headshake about my lack of wit. “Fuck you. You just want me to talk about dicks.”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because dicks are funny.”
I glanced around the diner but no one was paying attention. “Okay, surround sound. Keep your damn voice at a normal level.”