“You got a lot of shit going on, man, but you’ll be good when season hits, like always. And he won’t,” Maddoc tells him.
Captain shakes his head unbelieving and Maddoc rushes him. Gripping the back of his neck, he pulls his forehead to his in a brotherly way. “He will not fucking bench you. You’re starting.”
My gaze flicks to Royce as he makes his way to them. He clamps a hand on Captain’s shoulder. “We got you, bro. We’re taking state this year.”
Captain nods.
And I’m a little taken back as I witness the silent promise made to one another that they’ll reach their goals, whatever they are, together.
It’s pretty fuckin’ rad.
Three boys choosing to play ball at this ghetto ass, run down park when I know they can play somewhere nicer if they wanted, like in the school gym or on the outside courts there. Parentless punks if the rumors they live alone are true, finding their own little tribe in each other. Something worth fighting for.
I bet it feels good.
Turning away, I slink back against the tree and pull out my last official joint, light it and put it between my lips. Dropping my head onto the old Sycamore, I get one good hit, and then it’s snatched from my hands and dropped before me.
“What the—”
“Don’t talk,” Maddoc’s growl cuts me off, his face a blank bill, giving me nothing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
My brows lift and I gesture to the joint under his foot, fucking ruined. “Smoking.” Obviously.
“This court is off-limits to you.”
A laugh bubbles out of me and his frown deepens, his buddies sauntering over to join our little party. “This is a public park.”
“Do you see anyone else out here?” His glare drops to the cut under my eye before snapping back to mine.
Now that I glance around, I don’t. Not a soul but the four of us.
“Look, I couldn’t care less about your little game. I can’t smoke at the Bray house, I can’t smoke at the school. Every fucking time I try to walk around the back of the property the staff lady flips out and says I can’t go back there. That or some scavenger tries to come with me. I don’t like people. I don’t like sharing, and I don’t want to be bothered, so go back to your game and I’ll reroll what’s still smokable. How’s that sound?”
Royce lets out a quick chuckle but covers it by clearing his throat and turning away when, big man here, cuts him a glare. Captain, however, frowns my way and of course, Maddoc isn’t impressed.
He bends until his pretty little face is level with mine. He moves his foot and looks to the joint then me.
I eye him for a moment, then when it’s clear he’s about to snatch it up I make a grab for it, but he’s quicker and my hand hits nothing but dirt.
I push to my feet, shoving at his chest before stepping against him, and his features tighten. He stands stiff as a statue, peering down at the girl from the gutter much dirtier than him.
“You want in rotation, big man? Cool. But you’re not walking off with that.”
He closes his fist around it, those light eyes of his daring me to make a move.
And I would have already, if I thought there was one that would work on a guy like him. Big and bold, fearless by nature and loyal by choice. A man undeterred by a female’s body.
Rare as fuck.
Behind us, a car door slams and our attention is pulled.
“Fuck man, here we go,” Royce whispers and Maddoc’s muscles go stiff.
As the officer approaches, Maddoc’s jaw clenches tighter and tighter, his hand twitching slightly.
My joint.
Wait, he’s worried about being caught with it?
I quickly glance at all three boys, finding the same thunderous expressions etched across their faces, and my brows pull in. They’re not concerned, they’re maddened.
But why?
A low rumble leaves Maddoc and I refocus.
Sliding to the left, I tuck my body behind his large one. Not sure why, but I lightly tap the edge of his knuckle and his eyes flash to mine. There’s no time for him to decide, but still, he holds his fist tight.
“Open,” I hiss. A small pinch develops between his brows, but finally, his grip relaxes enough for me to grab the smashed up joint right as the officer steps up and we’re all forced to face him.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the last standing Brayshaws.