Page 60 of Contested

Marcos gave him a nod, keeping his jaw tight. Jacob’s palm was heavy, hot through the last layer of sweat still drying on his skin.

Jacob’s fingers gripped a bit harder. “Enjoy for now. Still things we need to work on.”

Marcos nodded again. Of course.

Jacob walked away, already striking up a conversation with one of the assistant coaches, and Marcos stayed where he was. The words sat against the back of his neck.

Around him, the changing room kept rolling forward without him. Staff passed through with clipboards and towels. Players hugged each other again. Someone started the song for a third time and got shouted down by someone else who told him to save his voice for the pub. Sebastian was being passed from person to person, shoved, clapped, lifted enough that both his feet left the ground. Every time he landed, more blood shifted along his jaw and throat.

Marcos turned away.

Parker came to stand next to him, arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him in with enough force that Marcos nearly stumbled.

“Drinks after here, right?” he asked, a smile widening on his face, and his voice barely audible over the rest of the noise.

“Maybe.” Marcos chuckled, flexing his legs. “I’m pretty cooked.”

“Yeah, you fucking ran, man.” Parker glanced over at where Sebastian was, still surrounded by everyone else. “He’s probably gonna wanna sleep off that knock, hey. Bro’s head is gonna be killing him tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Marcos muttered.

Parker shook him once, hard, then let go and headed toward the team. He was already calling out to Lachie before he reached him, his voice somehow cutting through the noise.

Marcos rolled his shoulders back. His body kept doing small things by itself. Flexing his fingers. Shifting his weight off one sore leg and onto the other. Pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek where he had bitten it during the third quarter. He watched Andrew drag Sebastian into a hug from behind. He watched Darcy slap Sebastian’s chest and then wince when Sebastian shoved him away, laughing. He watched Jacob catch Sebastian by the arm and point toward the corridor.

The media team had already been hovering near the door.

Sebastian made a face at Jacob, but he followed. One of the medical staff stepped to him, spoke low, touched two fingers lightly near the cut again, and Sebastian nodded.

Then he glanced back.

Marcos looked down before he could find out whether Sebastian was looking for him.

Eventually, the team split properly. The win loosened into routine. Boots came off, and tape was ripped away. Players limped toward the showers or stretched the game out of their muscles and groaned when they bent down too fast.

Marcos sat on the bench in front of his locker. His jersey sat beside him, turned inside out where he had dragged it over his head, and his boots were tucked under the bench with the laces still loose and muddied. Sweat, dirt, and grass marks sat across his body in patches he would need to scrub off properly, but he had stopped halfway through getting ready for the showers. His shorts were still on. His socks were pushed down around his ankles. One shin had a streak of dried dirt running from knee to calf.

He checked his phone and got distracted messaging Becca and Paula instead.

Becca had been giving him the rundown of what his family had been saying throughout the entire match.

His father had been the most vocal, which didn’t surprise Marcos. The other thing that didn’t surprise him was that his father had yelled about how Marcos could perform better. How he could’ve won more contests. How his kicks and clearances could have been cleaner. How he should have used his body earlier, held his ground harder, read the play faster.

All of which he knew he would hear about when he got home.

His mother had been too stressed to sit through the entire game. Becca said she had gotten up and left the room several times, speaking quickly in Spanish, then come back in only to stand near the doorway with one hand pressed to her chest.

Paula’s messages, on the other hand, were more pointed about the game itself.

How much she thought Marcos had improved. Especially playing with Sebastian.

Marcos rolled his eyes at that, even though he knew it was true. He could feel it in his body now that the room had gone quieter around him.

Marcos stared down at the message a little longer, then shook his head.

Paula’s other insight was how attractive some of the Wolves players were.

Marcos grinned down at his phone.