The Quarterback (The Team, #2)

by Tal Bauer

It took some balls for Colton to ask the guy who had tried to choke him out to drive him to the hospital. Nick had to give Colton that.

Colton’s smile was thin, almost wistful. “You were there when he needed you.” There was something Colton was saying and not saying. Nick held back from what he wanted to say: I’ll be here for you, too, as long as you need. Colton was Wes and Justin’s best friend, and even though Nick cared about Wes and Colton almost as much as he cared about his son, Colton might be uncomfortable hearing his friend’s dad come out and say something like that.

“I think my fashion has improved,” he said instead. Colton looked him up and down.

He was trying. For who, he didn’t know. For himself, maybe. It felt good to feel good again. “It’s better,” Colton said simply. Nick snorted.

Colton was grinning again. He was, in fact, wearing one of those cutoff T-shirts, his sculpted pecs and bulging deltoids and bursting traps popping out of the ratty fabric.

“I don’t think I can accept fashion criticism from a guy who wears basketball shorts and torn shirts. Do you dress like that to go to class?” “Of course not. I put a hat on.” Colton raked his fingers through his long hair. “Can’t go out looking like a mess.” “My mistake. Brim backward or forward?” “Pfft. Backward. Of course.” Colton rolled his eyes. He was smiling so hard Nick could see his molars.

“Bet I could sell a few mobile networks, though.” Colton flexed his left arm and pretended to kiss his bicep. Nick laughed.

The last system I played on was the Nintendo 64.” Colton’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow,” he said. “That is old. I saw one of those in a museum.” Nick waited. No, Colton wasn’t teasing. “Thanks.”

“I can’t play one-handed, so you’re going to have to play for me. I’ll show you how.” “You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks?” “Come on, it will be fun.” Colton smiled up at him, and, despite the dizzying array of buttons and the seemingly superfluous extra joystick on the overwhelming controller, Nick caved.

“Bro, Nick’s killing it,” Colton said. “He’s never played before, and he’s already got to level four. No, dude, go left. No, left. Your other left!” “Will you—” Something exploded in front of him, and the kill screen flashed. “Aw, man!” Colton cried. “I told you to go left!” “You could have said go left earlier, before I was already going right.” Nick sagged into the couch cushions. “I thought you were going to go the right way!” “I was!” “No! To the left!”

You guys need anything?” “Nah,” Colton said, slumping sideways on the couch and almost leaning against Nick. “No, thanks.” Nick smiled at Wes and caught Wes’s bemused but thankful grin in return.

Colton was quiet for a moment, the first long stretch of silence since they’d started playing together. “Want to play again when you come over tomorrow?” “Sure.” Nick selected to restart the level. “And I’m not done for today yet. So I go left at that turn?” “Right. You go left.” “You mean correct. I go left.” “Right.”

The game loaded as Nick glared at Colton. Colton grinned back at him, so big and broad and wide it made Nick’s cheeks ache in sympathy. He hadn’t seen those sad, lost eyes in hours. Whatever else, he counted that a win.

I feel like I'm highlighting this entire book but I'm obsessed

Nick stayed until Justin got home later that evening.

Colton met Nick’s gaze behind Wes’s back, rolling his eyes when Wes walked into a trap, grinning when he made the same mistake Nick had made that Colton warned them both about a half dozen times.

“Hey, Dad. Didn’t know you were here.” “I came to see Colton after lunch. I stayed so I could see you.”

Nick turned to Colton in time to see him smooth out his expression and unscrew a tension that hadn’t been there before he and Justin said hello.

Colton thanked Justin for the Frappuccino as soon as Nick passed it over, but he wouldn’t meet Nick’s gaze. Which, after an entire afternoon of looking at each other every minute, stood out. Nick frowned.

I’ll head home. I’ve got some stuff I’ve got to catch up on from today.” Colton froze, chopsticks poised over his lap, and shot Nick a guilty look.

“Night, Nick!” Colton called after him.

His phone buzzed a little before eleven. He expected it to be another email, maybe a reply from one of his more enthusiastic team members. But no, it was a text from Colton.

Thanks for coming over today. And yesterday. It’s really helped. I hope it hasn’t been too painful for you. He smiled. Not painful at all. I had a lot of fun. It means a lot.

Do you know what you want for lunch tomorrow? I’ll take your order now, if you do. Do you like sushi? I do. Know a good spot? Colton gave him the address for a sushi place and sent an order for six sushi rolls, an eye-popping amount for one person. I’ll give you money for ...

Nick was sending a monthly allowance to Justin, despite Justin’s initial protests, but he was happy to splurge on Colton, too. The least he could do was feed Colton, and if spending ti...

Nick meant it when he said he’d be there every day as long as Colton needed company. Colton wasn’t his son, but he was… special. A friend, yes, but he wouldn’t take off work to spend his afternoons with just any friend, buying them mount...

He wasn’t hanging out with Colton for Justin’s sake, either. No, he liked Colton all on his own, and he and Colton had a unique friendship independent of Justin and Wes. Maybe that had happened out of necessity, two third wheels who became a pair. But Colton was the ...

What did a divorce and a friend who was twenty-two mean? A restart, new dreams to imagine, a new life to be on the edge of? Or the beginning of a crash, a face-first plummet into realizing no, he was old.

Later, Nick couldn’t fall asleep, and he grabbed his phone and opened Amazon, searching for something he couldn’t get out of his mind.

“You cleaned.” Colton’s cheeks flushed. “That obvious, huh?” Nick passed the sushi over. Colton’s bedroom had been picked up, the dishes moved downstairs, his desk straightened, the strewn clothes tucked out of sight. It even looked like a vacuum had wandered over the carpet a few times.

Colton’s flush deepened. He cradled his sushi one-handed and lowered himself slowly to the couch. “If I’m going to have company, it should look decent. My mom taught me that much.

Colton applied that detail-oriented precision to absorbing everything Nick was teaching him. He had a multitude of questions, and he focused so intently on what Nick was saying it almost made Nick squirm. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever paid such close attention to his sales pitch.

Nick offered to drive Colton to his one-week postsurgery checkup a few days later. He tried to drive slowly, but the Porsche’s suspension wasn’t made to coddle broken bones or torn ligaments. Colton gritted his teeth through every pebble in the road. “Next time, I can drive your truck,” Nick offered.

“Hopefully I can drive myself soon,” Colton said as he hauled himself out of the low-slung 911. There was that, too. Nick wouldn’t be waiting on Colton hand and foot for much longer, he supposed.

“I only take the pills to help me sleep. I try to stay distracted during the day.” “You must have one hell of a distraction. This is not a painless injury.” Colton squirmed.

“And Colton is doing well because he’s taking charge of his own healing. He’s doing great all on his own. He doesn’t need a minder,” Nick finished. Colton smiled as he stared down at the tile floor.

For the drive home, Nick fished out a blanket he had in the trunk and rolled it up, then helped Colton slide it between his chest and his sling to try to cushion the impact from his car’s high-strung suspension. It seemed to help a bit. At least, Colton didn’t clench his teeth as hard as they headed down the highway.

“No more Halo matches next week,” Nick said. “You could come over after practice. I’ve got a ton of other games you can try, too. You and Wes could play Madden against each other. And I’ve got Destiny, and Red Dead, and Tetris—” “Tetris! Now you’re talking.”

Colton grinned. “See, you gotta come back. You need to show me what you’ve got in Tetris.” He frowned. “Unless you’ve got other plans. Have I been cramping your social life?” “No, you haven’t. I don’t real...

Once he’d parked, he fished out the gift he’d bought for Colton from behind his seat. It was still in the Amazon box, the flaps refolded so Colton could open it one-handed. “No fucking way,” Colton breathed when he looked inside. “Are you kidding me? How did you find this?” He lifted out the one-handed PlayStation controller.

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Colton turned to him, giving him a look of such wonder and stunned happiness that Nick couldn’t hold back his own smile.

“Dude, you know what this means? We can play two-player now.” Nick laughed. “That’s exactly what I thought when I bought it,” he teased. “I thought, ‘I can’t wait to play more PlayStation.’”

He stayed with Colton through the afternoon—gaming, of course. Colton scoured YouTube for instructional videos on the one-handed controller, and he scooted close to Nick to show him each playthrough on his phone.

Colton shot Nick a look that somehow captured both the sweetness of the moment and its overwhelming sappiness.

This time, Nick’s and Colton’s sidelong looks met in the middle, both of them struggling not to laugh.

The conversation flowed over Nick. He was content to listen and catch Colton’s glances every few minutes, as if he was checking in to see if Nick was still there, still having fun.

His son was happy and heading off on his great cowboy adventure with the love of his life, and he was going to be spending the summer with Colton, his improbable friend. Life was good. He smiled at Colton and sipped his beer.

When Justin and Wes drove away, Colton would be all alone in the big, empty house.

Colton was one boy among dozens on each of his teams, and the only way to get attention was to stand out. Be goofy. Be good, damn good, at sports. Be anything except himself. People left when he was himself.

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That was his friend: why use ten words when one did just fine?

Why waste time say lot word when few word do trick

“Besides, I’m not alone.” He kicked out toward Justin, his sandal-clad foot brushing over Justin’s boot. “Nick is here.” Justin rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe my dad is playing video games with you.”