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Theo ran his hand over his braids. “My guy wouldn’t let you touch my hair even if you had gloves on.”
I rubbed my shaved head. “If you’re braiding anyone’s hair, it’ll be Gid.”
Gideon glared at me. “Hell-fucking-no.”
We moved on to the next section of the course. Gideon was first to try to get the ball around the S-shaped alligator. He failed miserably.
“I’m gonna head out,” Seth said, pocketing his phone.
I crossed my arms. This kid… He was being handed a good life on a silver platter. All he had to do was play a game that he loved and not act like a prick. “Head out and do what?” I asked. “I’m always up for a change of scenery. We’ll tag along.”
Seth couldn’t decide if I was bluffing or not. He pushed a handful of floppy blond hair out of his face. “I showed up, didn’t I? I played a few holes of dumbass mini golf. Coach can get off my back now.”
“That’s not the fucking point,” Gideon shouted.
I glanced over my shoulder and gave a family with twin toddlers an apologetic look.
“The point is that you’re acting like a fuck-up and the season hasn’t even started. You’re being your own worst enemy. You need to get your shit straight and act like a goddamn professional.”
Seth crossed his arms.
Gideon stabbed Seth in the chest with his finger. “Clean your act up. You think I don’t want to be home with my wife right now? You don’t think Theo wants to be home with his kids? Or that Bryant wants to be in bed with his girl? Football isn’t about you. We work as a team, we get the job done. Go out on the field and try to do it by yourself. I dare you. Hell—I’d like to fucking watch. One versus eleven—you could do that right? The great Seth McBride.” His sarcasm wasn’t even thinly veiled. It was pretty damn overt.
Seth cut his eyes at me. It was written all over his face. He thought he was going to be the starting wide receiver since the old guy retired. Then the Reds signed me and I bumped him down the roster. I couldn’t blame him for being a little pissed, but the antics off and on the field were getting on my last nerve. He had been a shit show at practice all week.
“Get your shit together and keep your nose clean,” I said. “No partying, no showing up to practice hungover. You get your head straight and fix your attitude. Don’t get fined.”
“And don’t get anyone pregnant,” Theo chimed in. “Rule number one—buy your own condoms.” He was acting all big and bad, but the man was a total teddy bear when it came to his kids.
“And stop buying flashy shit. You don’t need a closet full of Rolexes,” Gideon said.
“Or what? You’ll tattle to Tyson?”
This motherfucker…
“Or you’ll end up broke, in jail, or worse,” I said.
“What’s worse?”
Gideon, Theo, and I looked at each other. “Minnesota.”
Theo shivered. He had been traded to Minnesota once. The man acted like he had seen some shit there.
“Get your shit together or get traded to Minnesota,” Gideon said.
I slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a California boy, right? I bet you’ll really enjoy the twenty-below wind chill. I hear Minneapolis is lovely in January.”
Gideon—the softie—stepped in. “You have talent. Don’t disrespect it by thinking you don’t have to grow anymore.” He shoved a golf club back in Seth’s hand. “And who knows. If you don’t royally piss me off, I might even pass on an endorsement deal and push them your way.”
Seth stayed for the rest of our four tours through the mini golf course. He muttered under his breath and acted like a dick, but he stayed. I had to give him points for that.
Still didn’t mean I liked him.
But there was something about Seth. Something that I saw when I looked in the mirror. Like he was trying to set himself apart from someone. That someone probably being his older brother, who played tight end for Denver. I knew what it felt like to live in someone’s shadow.
