Page 137 of Contested

Sebastian cooed, “That’s adorable.”

“Shut up.” Marcos nudged him with his foot before picking up another card. “What’s something you’ve been scared to tell me?”

He looked up and saw that Sebastian’s face had changed.

The easy amusement faded first. Then his mouth tightened. His eyes moved to the card in Marcos’ hand, then away from it. His fingers worked over the glass in his hand once before he set it down on the coffee table.

Marcos raised his eyebrows and waited.

For a second, Sebastian looked like he might make a joke. Marcos could see it forming. The quick flicker behind his eyes before they settle on something else. A smirk that didn’t quite arrive, and a breath that didn’t become words.

“Uh.” Sebastian cleared his throat and his eyes fell to his hands. “Do you remember when you were in the hospital?”

Marcos nodded. “I do. It became very boring, very fast.”

A smile flickered on Sebastian’s face. “Do you remember what you said when I came to visit?”

Marcos tried. He had pieces of the hospital, though most of them were blurred at the edges. Waking with bandages over his eyes. His mother’s hand against his cheek as she prayed quick and low in Spanish. Becca scolding him for not being a better player and getting out of the way. Paula sitting next to his bed, resting her hand on his arm to let him know she was there. Greg coming up with too many excuses about what happened before agreeing with Paula that Marcos should have been better.

Marcos also remembered Sebastian coming to see him.

His voice first, then his hand in Marcos’. The warmth he had brought into the room before telling Marcos about the loss. He remembered how hard the drugs were hitting him and how everything became one blurry memory.

Though that was about it.

“Not really.” Marcos tilted his head, then asked, “Did I say something stupid?”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, no.” He took a deep breath, fingers working over each other. “It was nothing. Something about ships.”

Marcos’ brow knotted. “Okay?”

“Sorry.” Sebastian chuckled, though it sounded too forced to be real. “Uh, I… I got offered a contract.”

Marcos’ face relaxed, and the corners of his mouth pulled. “That’s great. You were worried about the one-year—”

“It’s for Sydney. Storm.”

The smile on Marcos’ face fell.

The music from the television was the only thing that filled the apartment as he stared at Sebastian, whose eyes stayed on the space between them.

“Oh,” Marcos finally said, blinking too fast too many times. “I mean, that’s… Have the Mustangs—”

“I’m taking it.”

Marcos’ hand went still on Sebastian’s leg.

He hadn’t realised it was still there until it stopped moving. His fingers rested against Sebastian’s calf, suddenly too aware of the warmth beneath his fingers, of the couch beneath him, of the glass in his other hand and the way his taped fingers didn’t sit properly around it.

His throat worked once.

Sebastian wiped his face. “It’s more money, which I can use to help my dad. It’s ruck.” He paused and let out a deep breath. “And, uh, it’s a four-year contract.”

Marcos’ chest rose and fell too fast, trying to make room for the air that didn’t seem to be filling his lungs. His heart felt lost beneath it all.

“My family is gonna move, too,” Sebastian continued. “Well, my parents and Loren. Not for me. But for my dad. That’s where he wants to be. So, I can maybe try to… I don’t know. Fix things before he…”

Marcos shook his head once, then nodded a few times. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. No. It’s… It’s a good thing.”