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)
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.