Page 8 of Tumbling the Cornerback

Lucas eyed me warily. "Thank you?"

I shrugged. "They're cool. I could never wear something like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Fuck. How did I mess this up already? "I dress boring, you know? Sneakers, loafers, the one pair of dress shoes I drag out if I have to be in a suit or something. And I have huge feet, you know." I held out one leg to demonstrate the fact. "If I wore pointy boots, cool as they are, I'd look like a cryptid." I offered him what I hoped was a charming smile. Judging by the look he gave me, it was less I want to get to know you better and more it puts the lotion on its skin.

"Wow." He stared at me, wide-eyed. "Wow."

"Gentlemen," Caitlin said sharply. "Are you quite ready?"

Lucas straightened in his chair, swinging his legs down and folding his hands on his lap, giving Caitlin his full attention.

Or pretending to. I know a kiss-ass when I see one. The little smirk and side eye he shot me didn't hurt either. I couldn't help the snort bursting from my chest, a barely strangled laugh that drew the glare of Phil and Cait both. "Sorry, I just thought of a picture of an angry cat, and it made me laugh."

Lucas's eyes narrowed.

"Okay," Caitlin drawled. "I'll keep this short, then, so you can get back to your feline fancying."

She did a lightning-round version of the events from the weekend, mostly to confirm what she'd been told already. Neither Lucas nor I had anything to add, but he sure appeared like he might want to. He shifted in his seat, twisted his fingers together, did his damnedest not to look at me the entire time.

"I don't blame you for being mad," I said suddenly. "I mean, you busted your butt for the event, and there's some news guy giving me credit for your work. And that's BS—pardon my language," I added, nodding at the others. "I was thinking maybe I could make an official statement about things, say I was misquoted or something?"

Phil made a seesaw gesture with one hand. "That could work, or it could come off as you trying to seem too humble. Or trying to draw more attention."

Liesel cleared her throat, leaning forward, more than a little embarrassed. "The thing is... attention isn't a bad thing."

Beside me, Lucas went stiff as a board. "You okay?" I muttered.

He didn't even blink.

Cass patted the back of his hand gently. For the first time since I'd met her, Caitlin looked like she felt a bit bad about what was coming. Liesel pressed on. "Since Byrne's video hit YouTube, we've gotten almost half a million in donations. Half a million!" She turned a pleading expression on Lucas, who nodded once, still stiff and now a bit green around the gills. "And several other major sports teams in the state have reached out about 'doing something' with Queering Sports. It's huge for us."

This time, Lucas closed his eyes for a moment. A bit too long to be a blink but just long enough to hold back tears, I thought. When he spoke, his words were full of fake politeness so clear even Phil winced. "I get it. It's fine. I just put almost a year of work into this, and I'm pushed aside. Okay. It's fine. Because it's for the kids."

He stood, raking his fingers through his dark waves, turning his sharp glare on me. "I really do get it. It's not just me being nice so I don't get shit-canned by the squad for going off on you, Cooper. I've volunteered for the organization since college, so I know how big a deal this is. That donation." He jabbed a finger in Liesel's direction. She flinched as if he could reach her from across the room, sinking back in her seat a bit with a guilty expression on her pixie features. "It's enormous. Queering Sports doesn't see money like that in a year. But here we are." He smiled, sharp and feral to me but smoothed into something more businesslike, smaller and flat, towards the others. "So, what is it? Thanks, Lucas, it's been real, but we're replacing you with Mr. Football here?"

Liesel shook her head, but Cass beat her to the punch. "Sit down, Lucas, and listen for a minute. You're acting like a brat, and it's embarrassing you, not anyone else."

"Lucas, you know I'm not going to take your credit. Besides, if we let this go and ignore it, it'll be forgotten by the end of summer. I've got team PR stuff to do. I have some sponsorships to follow up on..." I shrugged weakly. "I'm not gunning for your project."

"Wait a sec," Phil sighed. "Coop, let Caitlin and Liesel talk..."

Lucas was fast as hell. I caught up with him in the parking garage, jabbing at a key fob and cussing under his breath as his car beeped somewhere deep in the level. "Hey, wait!"

"Don't talk to me right now. I can't... I just can't!"

Frustration thrummed through me, clenching my jaw and burning in my chest. "Lucas, look, I know this is awkward as hell and really annoying, but I don't understand why you're this angry about what's going on. I mean, it's not ideal, and it's gonna make my schedule suck too, but?—"

Lucas whipped around, giving up on his car search for the moment to glare at me.

And I was pretty sure I knew how the guy in Jurassic Park felt coming face to face with that raptor about two seconds before he got got.

Lucas stalked towards me, all five foot something of him, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. I've faced huge dudes on the field intent on causing pain, but I'd never backed away from a single one of them. Lucas Ortiz, though... The part of my brain that made good decisions kicked in and said move now.

One step, then another, then another, and I was pushed up against the parking garage wall, Lucas just inches from me, fairly vibrating with poorly suppressed feeling. "This is not about our fucking schedules. Jesus, how many hits to the head have you taken?"

"Hey! That's not even close to being funny," I growled. "What the fuck?” Anger hot enough to match the fire in Lucas’ glare flared in my chest.

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