Ripped - 15. Chapter 15

—Bailey—

Bailey stripped off his grips as he watched the football team leave, specifically the massive retreating form of Declan, and his huge, broad shoulders. His own teammates clustered around him, and he noticed Justin eyeing Chris sharply. But the football captain was smart enough not to do anything with the two coaches nearby.

They slipped on their running shoes and headed toward the football field. A few moments later, the football team came jogging out of the building wearing their practice gear.

"Stay away from Chris and Eric," Justin warned them. "And don't react if you can't do something. And don't let them goad you into reacting either."

"Yeah, okay," Luke said, as they all nodded their agreement.

"You especially, Bailey," Justin added. "Chris is going to be gunning for you after what happened in the weight room."

Bailey dropped his eyes to the ground, flinching at Justin's wording. Thoughts of his father flooded his mind; images from the nightmare of his father's last moments that tormented him, the explosion, the loud pops of rifles from the men gunning down his father...

Justin looked like he wanted to say something else, but he turned to join the crowd on the track. Bailey glanced instinctively under the bleachers, having a sudden urge to retreat from the chaos around him to his hiding place under them.

"And, of course, there's an audience..." Cameron muttered, taking in the smattering of students hanging out on the bleachers.

A presence loomed next to him, and Bailey turned carefully, forcing himself not to jump.

"We always have a few guys hanging out to watch our practice, usually it's track or soccer or lacrosse guys who've finished their own practices."

It was Declan, and Bailey found his shoulders relaxing slightly. It was strange how he didn't feel intimidated by the massive teen. Maybe it was because Declan had attempted to rescue him from Chris and Eric, or maybe because of how he'd made such an effort to apologize.

Declan jerked his head, indicating Bailey to follow, and they joined the lines Chris had formed, Declan taking a spot next to him. Bailey had the distinct feeling that Declan was trying to somehow shield him from the rest of his team. Not that Bailey needed it, but it was kinda sweet. Justin had joined Chris at the front of the squads, and the other gymnasts took places unobtrusively at the back of the lines.

"Guys, take a step back," Chris called out, waving his hands for everyone to back up. "I think our guests should come to the front of the lines; they are, after all, our guests."

Justin's hands fell to his hips as he rolled his eyes, but he jerked his head, indicating for his teammates to come forward. Bailey stepped forward, only to have Declan block his way.

He looked up in confusion at the deeply furrowed brows.

"Don't let—" Declan started but cut himself off, shaking his head. "Never mind, I forget you've probably done this before," he whispered.

A small smile tipped the corner of Bailey lips. "Yeah, a few times."

"Get moving, Vasser!" Coach Reed yelled.

Bailey quickly slipped into the spot on the end his teammates had left him.

"Coach," Chris called, "wouldn't it be a more realistic experience if they were wearing gear as well?"

Justin whipped around, huffing. "Seriously, Chris?"

"Well, wouldn't it?" Chris blinked innocently, a challenge lurking behind the fake smile.

"Whatever."

"We don't have the extra gear, Mr. Vasser—"

"I'm sure some of the guys will give up theirs for today. You know, so they can have the full experience and all," Chris added, and Eric and Eddie were already halfway out of theirs.

Bailey noticed the rest of the football players looking around in confusion before Chris pointed at four guys to remove their shoulder pads and hand them over. Eric turned and shoved his into Bailey's chest, causing him to step back to maintain his balance.

There were chuckles as Justin and the other gymnasts struggled a little to get the gear settled. Bailey could feel eyes boring into him, just watching for him to screw up, but he deftly slipped the gear on. Chris huffed, obviously disappointed Bailey wasn't totally incompetent with the shoulder pads.

"Are you done playing around now?" Coach Reed asked in annoyance.

Chris began shouting out exercises, counting unusually high reps or long hold times for planks and stretches. He had them high stepping, then doing shuffle drills and footwork. Of course, he was pleased with himself when Luke, Mateo, and Cameron ran into each other on the shuffle drill, or when Owen tripped over his own feet at one point. Justin did his best to keep up, but Chris was relentless.

The worst for the gymnasts were the yard line sprinting drills. While they conditioned, they didn't necessarily spend a lot of time running. Yeah, the vault required it, and some of them ran for leisure, but the hard-core sprinting that helped the football team develop the quick twitch musculature need for fast changes of direction and sudden acceleration were killing the gymnasts, causing most of them to lag behind. Chris continued spitting out orders for them, gloating the entire time. Justin managed better than most of his team as did Bailey, but then running had always been easy for Bailey, which was why he'd done so well as a cornerback for the Pitbulls.

Bailey tried not to think about when he'd last done most of these drills. Even though he'd quit the Pitbulls, he had still practiced many of the skills... with his father. He nearly faltered when he remembered his dad encouraging him to keep up, because his dad was fast.

"Move it, move it, move it!"

"Come on, Bailey, you can do better than your old man! Move it!" his father's deep voice chided, laughing as Bailey picked up his pace, finally closing the gap between them.

His dad darted off to the side, causing Bailey to quickly change directions. This was one of their favorite games, a sort of tag, one of them zig-zagging around the field as the other attempted to tackle them.

Bailey dove as soon as he got within striking distance, wrapping up his dad's legs, and causing them both to tumble to the ground. His dad was laughing as he rolled over to his back, and Bailey was grinning up at the bright blue sky.

His dad sat up, slapping him on the chest. "And that's why those Pitbulls are idiots. Not only can you run anyone down, but you can jump and pick the damn ball right out from in front of them."

Bailey's grin faltered slightly. "Do you want me to try out at the new school?"

His dad smiled down at him fondly. "No, son. I don't. I still suspect you only tried out for the Pitbulls because you thought it was something I wanted you to do—"

Bailey opened his mouth to protest, but his father held up his hand. "No, don't deny it. Gymnastics is your first love, I've always known that. And you're damn good at it. I've only ever wanted what was best for you, you know that. I always will. And trying other sports... well, it was just to make sure you didn't find something you liked better."

"I did like playing football," Bailey insisted.

His dad climbed to his feet, reaching a hand down to Bailey and helping him up. "Yeah, but you love gymnastics. That's the difference."

Fuck. He nearly stumbled as tears burned at the back of his eyes. His eyes darted to the bleachers again. If only his backpack wasn't in his locker, maybe he could slip away under the bleachers just long enough to do it...

It was only when Chris was glaring at him for several long moments that Bailey realized the guy was pissed at him for actually keeping up with the exercises. Bailey couldn't find it in himself to care what Chris thought about him. The sooner they finished, the sooner he could get the hell away from everyone.

"That's good enough!" Reed called out, clapping his hands. Richards, as well as the assistant football coaches—Mr. Iverson and Mr. Gerwais—stood with Coach Reed. The two teams stopped, some dropped to sit down, others just panted to catch their breath.

"Well, this concludes Enlightening 101," Richards announced with a smirk. "As you can see, it takes different kinds of strength, agility, flexibility and speed to excel at different sports, as hopefully today has proved. We hope having shared another team's conditioning experience that you all have a better respect for what other teams go through to be at their best."

Grunts and nods echoed through the tired teens on the field, along with a few 'oh, hell yeah's. Reed and Richards nodded at each other, obviously satisfied with the experiment. Looking over at Chris, Bailey wasn't so sure. He hadn't liked Justin being able to do something he couldn't in the gym, and while he'd more than proved himself out here on the field, Bailey suspected he wasn't capable of admitting a physical fault.

"Good!" Reed clapped his hands loudly, grinning widely. "Let's run some plays."

Chris ignored Justin flopping onto his back, narrowing his eyes on Bailey as the team shuffled around him, dividing themselves into offensive and defensive squads. Mateo and Owen had already divested themselves of the extra weight of the shoulder pads, but Bailey didn't move, sensing something more coming from the teen hovering over his captain. He tensed, not liking the way Chris was looking at Justin or even Mateo and Owen. Chris picking on him was one thing... was he now going to try to humiliate Justin—his team—even more by goading them into playing a sport they weren't very familiar with?

"Maybe they'd like to run a few plays with us, Coach?" Chris called out, earning him another round of puzzled stares from his own team. Bailey narrowed his eyes.

Justin propped himself up on his elbows. "What the fuck, Chris?"

"Just thought it might be fun," Chris said for the benefit of his coach with a shrug, but then he squatted down next to Justin. His voice dropped to a near whisper. "What's the matter, Greene? None of you fly-boys up to a real sport?"

Justin's mouth opened to snap a reply, but Bailey stepped up next to his team captain. "Sounds like fun."

Chris's head jerked up, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Bailey, no—" Mateo started, trying to push himself between Chris and the rest of his team.

Bailey wasn't sure what possessed him to open his mouth—hell, he never spoke up like that—but watching Chris staring down at Justin like that... It reminded him of Mason, how his former teammate had looked at him. Like he wanted to destroy him. And Bailey had nearly let him. He couldn't let Chris do that to Justin.

"Bailey, you don't—" a deeper voice echoed of concern. Declan. Bailey heard surprised chatter around them, including his own team's protests, but he ignored it, focusing on the large teen trying to edge his way forward.

But Declan's progress was blocked by Coach Reed and Richards pushing their way through the milling team members. "What the hell is going on now?"

Chris just grinned innocently. "Nothing, sir. Just offered them the chance to run some practice plays with us, and McIntyre said he wanted to try."

"No," Coach Richards interjected. "We can't risk you getting hurt—"

"I could play cornerback," Bailey said, noticing Declan had stopped abruptly behind Chris at his words, a slow smile spreading at his words. "It's mostly just running... trying to catch the receiver, right?"

—Declan—

Chris broke into a leering smirk, "Yeah, that's right," Chris said smoothly. Declan almost choked on his laughter the way Bailey had baited Chris with his innocent question.

"Chris just needs to let this go," Ben's deep voice rumbled from somewhere behind him, echoing Declan's own thoughts.

"He can't," Alex muttered, "because he's an egotistical asshole." Declan snorted at his friend's frankness. Several grunts of agreement were muttered around him.

"Coach needs to put Lachlan in as QB just to make Chris realize he's not invincible. He can be replaced," someone else growled.

"I'm getting tired of this bullshit. He's making us look like idiots."

Declan whirled around, staring at his teammates in shock as they voiced some of his own thoughts recently. Had they thought this all along? How had he not picked up on that?

Nick cocked an eyebrow back at him. "What? Aren't you?"

"Well, yeah," Declan managed to get out. "I just didn't think anyone else—"

Ben narrowed his eyes. "Really?"

"Okay, well yeah, you," Declan admitted he'd noticed the big bear's unhappiness with Chris's cockiness, especially in the weight room, but not really the others.

"Yeah, well, we just got the one season left, right? Thought we could stick it out, you know?" Jose shrugged.

Jaime was hovering at Declan's shoulder, arms crossed as he continued to watch the exchange between Chris and Bailey, who had convinced his coach to let him run a few plays. Chris was now shouting orders to gather the offense. And Declan knew he should probably be gathering the defense.

Jaime watched Bailey head to the sidelines to grab a helmet, jogging over easily even loaded down with the bulky shoulder pads. "Hmm. I think Chris just got suckered."

Declan chuckled, retrieving his own. "Yeah. I think so."

"Really?" Nick piped up next to him, carrying his helmet to the field. "You think the kid knows anything about actually playing?"

"Oh, hell yeah," Declan smirked.

"Huh." Nick was squinting at Bailey appraisingly. "I mean, we know he's strong, because hell, holding that fucking Malt-whatever thing was fucking amazing. But this is different. I mean, look at him. He's so small. He's practically drowning in the shoulder pads."

Declan turned and patted Nick on the shoulder, shoving him and Alex towards Chris huddling with the offense. "Just trust me. He knows football. Now get on your side of the line."

He watched his friends head to the 'enemy' line. Chris was flanked by his two biggest fans—Eric and Eddie, the newbie freshman who'd fallen under Chris's spell—while he was waiting for Nick and Alex to saunter over.

Mateo and Owen were in his face almost instantly after Chris led the offensive line to the center of the field. Luke was right behind them along with Justin and Cameron.

"You better not let him get hurt," Mateo threatened, glancing briefly at Bailey who was coming back from the sidelines with a helmet.

Declan opened his mouth but Ben beat him to it. "You realize he's on our side, right?"

"I don't know what the hell he's doing," Justin sighed exasperatedly, flapping his arms out. "He's insane."

Declan cocked his head at the gymnasts. "You don't really know much about Bailey, do you?"

Cameron narrowed his eyes. "He keeps to himself a bit. Why?"

"Because if you knew him, you'd be aware he knows how to play football," Declan stated, a small challenge in his eyes.

"And you know this how?" Jaime asked, slipping in next to Declan and Ben, while Justin narrowed his eyes, probably trying to figure out if Declan was telling the truth or not.

For a moment, Declan didn't want to share Bailey's secret. Then again, maybe it really wasn't a secret. It was just that Bailey hadn't been all that social so it had never come up.

"Bailey played football at his old school."

Mateo whipped his head around, staring in shock at Bailey strapping on a helmet. "Did you know that?" Cameron whispered to Justin, who shook his head, still eyeing Declan warily.

Jose's eyes widened. "Holy shit, really? What was he? The kicker?"

Declan just grinned back deviously, feeling a little excited about just what Bailey's secret might mean to Chris's smug ass.

"Nah, he played cornerback."

—Bailey—

"Did you see the look on Chris's face when you snatched that ball he'd thrown at Eddie out of the air?" Declan slapped the table in his excitement. "Hell, Eddie, took off thinking he'd caught the ball for a second. I've never seen anyone jump that high."

They were now sitting at a small table at Stuffed!. The deli was a small business with only about ten tables inside and a few metal tables outside, but it maintained a constant flow of customers. They had ordered at the counter when they'd come in and received a little plastic numbered placard to put on their table for when their order was ready.

Bailey shifted in his seat, staring at Declan's huge hand on the table. It had landed almost on top of his own, and he resisted the urge to snatch his hand back and hide it under the table. He could almost feel the heat radiating off the guy sitting next to him. Instead of sitting across from each other, Declan had drawn his chair around the tiny table so they could hear each other better, so he was closer than Bailey would have normally liked.

"I can see you really enjoyed playing football," Declan added.

Bailey ducked his head, hiding his smile. He had enjoyed himself, even with Chris and Eric trying to make things difficult. "It's been a while."

"Why did you give it up? I'm sure you could have tried out for the team here? Hell, you heard Coach offering you a position after you outran all of our receivers."

"I don't think Coach Richards was too pleased about that," Bailey chuckled. "He accused Mr. Reed of trying to poach his team members."

"That was funny to watch," Declan agreed, "but I'm pretty sure Coach Reed didn't really think you'd give up gymnastics."

"I wouldn't. I did like playing football. And we were good, we were winning, until..." he broke off, suddenly realizing he was about to give Declan too much of himself. Hell, had he really been about to tell Declan what Mason and his pack had done to him? He distracted himself from the emotions trying to derail him by sipping on his drink, his other hand pressing on his healing hipbone.

Declan's face scrunched into a fierce glare. "Until...?"

Bailey only shrugged. "Typical football types, that's all."

Fuck. He dug his nails into his hip, his fingers itching for it. His heart pounded in his chest, hoping Declan wouldn't press for more.

"Like me?" Declan promptly softly.

Bailey cut his eyes sharply over at the other teen. "No, not like you." Bailey forced a small laugh. "They were just assholes is all. Not worth my time. Gymnastics is better for me anyway. Individual sports are more my thing."

"Gymnastics to football is a big switch; why even try it?"

"It was just something I thought I'd try, for something different when I started high school. Gymnastics has always been my thing, since I was like seven. My dad liked to have me try out other sports, just to see if I liked anything else."

"Did he..." Declan looked uncertain. "Did he not want you doing gymnastics? Did he think it was...?"

Bailey jerked as if Declan had slapped him. "No! No, not at all. Both my parents were very supportive of my gymnastics. Dad came to every competition he could, would be right there in front yelling his encouragement. It was just... he couldn't really help much with gymnastics, except conditioning, and I know he liked to feel like he was helping."

Declan chuckled. "Oh, don't I know it. Dads can be overbearing sometimes about sports. I'm sure your dad would have enjoyed watching you smack down Chris today."

Bailey swallowed hard at Declan talking about his father so casually. "Yeah he probably would have."

Bailey tried not to think too hard on the afternoon's events. Or what his father might have thought about it. He'd probably find it amusing after the whole debacle with the Pitbulls.

Why had he decided to accept Chris's challenge? Since when did he take dares from anyone? He'd given that up in the fifth grade. Nobody had goaded him into anything... since his dad died. He'd regretted opening his mouth instantly, but Chris had flipped Bailey's last switch. Bailey had lived with tough ignorant guys often condemning men's gymnastics as less than a real sport, and he was used to letting it go. He didn't usually care what others thought of him, but he'd become part of this team, even if it was a team competing individually. It was a team that had stuck up for him and supported him through starting at a new school as well as with the death of his father.

While he might not have opened up to them, they were still his team, his friends, who encouraged and had each other's backs. They were all emotionally stronger than he was, instinctively accepting his aloofness and supporting him. The guys had stood up for him, even when Bailey hadn't cared enough to stand up for himself.

That moment, when Chris had called Justin and his team out as cowards or wimps, Bailey had lost it. He didn't know what kind of backgrounds his teammates had, or whether any of them could even try to step in and take up Chris's challenge. But he knew he could. It was one thing he could do for his team—because Chris was pushing this rivalry too far. Bailey might not stand up for himself—just because he didn't think himself worth it—but he would stand up for his team if he could.

He honestly hadn't set out to humiliate Chris or Eddie or any of the other football players—just like he hadn't intended it that day in the weight room. He'd just wanted to prove that he, that any one, was more than just the sport they chose to participate in. They could be more than that.

His father had taught him that.

"What?" Declan's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Bailey's head jerked up to see Declan's sharp jaw leaning in close. "W-what?"

"You said something, but I couldn't hear you."

"Oh, uh, I just..." Bailey tried to remember what he might have said out loud.

Declan tapped his fingers over the back of Bailey's hand, causing Bailey to freeze. "You said something about your dad," he prompted.

Bailey slowly pulled his hand back. "Oh, uh, probably just that my dad was the one who taught me... about football and running and stuff."

Declan grinned. "Well, he must be an awesome coach. Some of those moves you pulled... I mean, nobody catches Alex; he's our best receiver and you ran him down every time. And those two interceptions... I don't think Chris expected you to move that fast... man, I should have your dad teach me how to do that."

Bailey flinched, causing Declan to jerk back, startled. "Yeah, well, he's dead, so that's not going to happen."

Bailey could barely stand the sad, wide eyes Declan was now staring at him with. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. I-I didn't know. I... I thought I'd heard he was away at some point, but I just assumed it was on business, like my dad is."

Bailey felt his hands starting to shake and quickly clasped them together. He tried to tamp down the ache that came whenever someone mentioned his father. He'd meant to shock Declan with the blunt comment about his father being dead, but now he just felt guilty in the face of Declan's concern. "Yeah, well, he, uh, he was killed a few months ago... before school started. In Afghanistan."

"Oh, shit, man, I'm so sorry," Declan breathed out, and Bailey suddenly felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Instinct had him wanting to pull away, but Declan's thick fingers dug in gently, massaging slightly on the constantly tense muscles, and Bailey found himself letting his fear slip away to accept the small comfort.

"Thanks," was all Bailey could manage to choke out.

"You were close," Declan continued, fingers snaking to the back of his neck.

Bailey's head fell forward, both to accept Declan's comforting touch and to hide his pain. He didn't need this guy to see him as weaker than he already did.

"Okay, so I got a tuna melt here, and an Italian sub, no lettuce."

Bailey's head shot up at the voice of the waitress dropping off their food, Declan's hot fingers falling away from his neck. Bailey had almost forgotten about the food until the waitress dropped off their orders.

Declan held up his hand. "Mine's the Italian."

"So you must be the tuna," she surmised, dropping the other plate in front of Bailey.

"Thanks," he managed to croak out, actually glad for her interruption.

After she disappeared, Declan took a bite of his sub before he said anything else. "So... when did you start running?"

The corner of Bailey's lip tipped up, glad for Declan's change of subject. "I've always run." He almost added 'with dad', but he knew Declan had tried to help steer the conversation to a safer topic. It's just that most of Bailey's life had been tied up in his father...

Bailey swallowed a long sip of his drink. "I've been running probably as long as I've been doing gymnastics, which is most of my life. My dad... my dad and I ran together all the time. It was something we could do together, since he couldn't do gymnastics." Bailey let out an awkward chuckle, trying to keep a rein on his emotions but also keeping the conversation light. "He tried once. Failed miserably at a cartwheel. Never tried again."

Declan was silent, watching him carefully. "Hey, Bailey, I... I didn't mean to bring up bad—"

"No, no," Bailey halted his apology. "It's okay. I just... miss him, is all."

"Yeah," Declan said sympathetically, again dropping his hand over Bailey's, causing Bailey to stare down at the thick hand patting his. Declan's touch confused him. It was almost tender, and Bailey hated that he suddenly wished it was more than just a random gesture of sympathy. "But, hey, you can always think of all the good times you had together. It sounds like you and your dad get—got along really well, doing all sorts of shit together and all."

Bailey snorted with laughter as Declan's wording. "Yeah, we did."

Declan shoved a fry in his mouth. "Bet your mom's really proud of you too, with the gymnastics and everything."

"Probably," Bailey said evasively, causing Declan to frown at him. After a few moments of silence, Bailey sighed. "She used to be at least. I don't know anymore... with dad gone, she's... well, we've both been..."

Bailey didn't know how to explain his relationship with his mother to Declan, or why he should be trying to in the first place. He hardly knew Declan, and he was already spilling more than he'd ever intended. Damn, why was this guy so easy to talk to?

"I get it," Declan nodded. "My Nana was the same way when Pop-Pop died—not talking to us, almost pretending it hadn't happened, retreating into herself..."

Bailey nodded, grateful he understood. "She's not interested in talking about it. I think I remind her too much of him. She likes to remind me of what he'd want me to do, to become..." Bailey glanced away. "I'm... I'm trying..."

"Hey, we all want to make our parents proud. Don't sweat it."

Bailey swiped at the corner of his eye before pasting on a half-hearted grin. "Listen to us, this kind of stuff is a little too deep and depressing for first date talk, dontcha think?"

Declan paused, lifting his eyebrow as he quirked a smile. "First date, huh?"

Bailey's breath nearly choked him, sure Declan was going to pound him into the ground for making even a half-hearted joke about something like that. Yeah, Declan had been pretty cool so far, but... "Oh fuck... I—I'm sorry... I didn't mean... that came out all wrong..."

Declan laughed, leaning in a little closer. "I'm not offended... at all."

Bailey sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. What the hell? Declan was—

"Yo, Yo, Yo! Bailey, my man!" a voice shouted from the door, causing both of them to jump; Bailey nearly knocked over his drink. Jaime bounded over, yanking out a seat at their table.

Nick, Alex and Jose crowded in around them, and Bailey couldn't help pressing closer to Declan to avoid Jaime touching him.

"You were awesome, man," Jose admired. "You killed it on the field today! I thought Chris was going to bust a nut."

Declan almost spit his drink out all over the table.

"Hell, I'm not used to having to chase someone down after they've stolen the ball right out of the air in front of me," Alex added. "And I'm taller than you! I should have had that ball!"

Declan grinned, "Oh, yeah, he can jump alright."

Bailey barely looked at the others. Being surrounded by so many oversized football players had his heart racing. He knew it was irrational. They were just sitting—hell, they were praising him!—and he still felt anxious. Declan didn't seem concerned by their presence, so they were probably okay guys. But he felt trapped, and just like always, he forced a show of bravado.

Straightening his back, he shrugged. "A little."

"Yeah." Jose grinned. "So you gonna join us on Friday night for our football game?"

Bailey wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. "Uh, no, er, well, I might watch," he mumbled.

"What? You don't want to be our new cornerback?" Nick teased. "Coach said he'd take you in an instant."

"Yeah, well, I don't think my coach would take that too well. Besides, we have a meet on Saturday. Gotta rest up." Bailey took another sip of his drink.

"Where is it?" Declan asked.

Bailey frowned at him, wondering why he'd want to know. "Um, over at the public high school in town."

Declan nodded thoughtfully. "Might be cool to see."

Jose's eyes lit up. "Oooh, yeah, why not?"

Bailey couldn't believe the others were nodding with him. "Oh, no, you don't have to..."

Alex cocked his head. "You know we should probably go support our brethren in other sports. Hell, they come watch us."

Nick cocked a brow at Bailey, even as the smaller boy tried to derail their train of thought. "Don't people come watch when you compete?"

"W-well, yeah, but it's mostly family and fr—"

"Well, we're your friends, classmates, we can come support you guys, right?" Declan interrupted.

"I-I g-guess, but don't feel you have—" Bailey's voice trailed off into a near whisper as they ignored his protest.

"So, you guys grabbing dinner here?" Nick asked, snatching a fry off Declan's plate.

"Yeah," Declan drawled. "Dining hall menu didn't look all that great."

"Uh-huh. I get ya. That's why we're here." Nick shoved his seat in closer, nearly pressing against Bailey's side.

Bailey couldn't help leaning away from the unfamiliar guy. Unfortunately, that forced him to lean into Declan's shoulder, his thigh brushing Declan's thick tree trunk of a leg. Declan shifted next to him, and Bailey's fear spiked. Had he offended Declan?

Bailey glanced quickly at Declan, meeting his heated gaze momentarily, reminding him of Declan's comment the moments before Declan's teammates arrived. Declan smiled slowly and leaned back, stretching his arm out across the back of Bailey's chair. The move not only gave Bailey a little more breathing room, but kept Declan close without it looking like Bailey was climbing into Declan's lap. Bailey's tense breath was released as he listened to Declan banter with his friends, grateful that he seemed to understand Bailey's unease.

Bailey picked at his food, paying only slight attention to the actual conversation and more to the animated movements of the football players. When Declan abruptly stretched next to him, Bailey jolted. Damn, he hated when he did that. Bailey took a steadying breath, clutching his hands to his thighs.

"Hey, guys, I'm about beat." Declan yawned, and Bailey almost jumped again when he felt Declan's hand slide over his under the table and squeeze gently, reassuringly. "I'll see you guys back at the dorm. Come on, Bailey."

Bailey wondered if Declan's friends would find it odd that Declan was dragging him along, but they just nodded and waved their good-byes as their own food arrived and they settled in to eat.

Declan gestured for Bailey to head out the door ahead of him, and Bailey nearly dove through it. He still had his bags with him since they'd come here after practices, but Declan had obviously left everything on campus. He strode directly across the square, trying to put as much distance between the exuberant football players as possible.

He'd nearly rounded the corner around Carewell Pharmacy, his eyes darting quickly around, seeking out possible danger, when he felt a hand pull at his elbow. He whipped around, almost swinging his bag at the perpetrator.

Declan backed up instantly. "Woah. Sorry."

Bailey deflated. "I'm—sorry... I just... there were so many... and they were..." He gestured with his hands, scrunching together. "And I just needed to—"

"You felt crowded," Declan finished. "I could tell. I'm sorry. I didn't know they'd show up."

Bailey laughed, his eyes still swinging up and down the street. "It's actually a pretty good bet someone will show up. The whole campus hangs out here at one time or another."

"True." Declan shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, taking a step forward. "Let me—Let me walk you home. I can see you're nervous. I would be too after what Chris did."

Bailey just heaved his bag back over his shoulder, his shoulders slumping as he turned to head up the street. "Why do you even care, Declan? You know hanging out with me could cause you problems."

"What problems? You saw those guys in there. Nick, Alex, Jose, they loved you. They think you're awesome. And Ian and Evan liked you too."

Bailey turned, rolling his eyes. "What about the rest of your team? You forget what Chris said to you today at lunch? What about Eric, or that other kid... Eddie, I think?"

"Who the fuck cares what a couple idiots think?"

"Um, you did," Bailey shot back, causing Declan to wince.

"Yeah, I did. Past tense. I don't anymore, okay? Like I said before, I'm coming to my senses. Look, I just... I'm sorry okay?"

"I already accepted your apology. You don't have to keep trying to—"

"But I want to!"

Bailey frowned. "You want to keep apologizing?"

"No, no. I want to keep trying to be your friend. I like you, Bailey. You intrigue me, you challenge me." Declan hesitantly reached for Bailey's hand.

Bailey watched the big fingers wrap around his, allowing the contact. Declan's thumb swept back and forth across this palm.

"I'd like to... maybe... see where this friendship goes..."

Bailey just stared at the hand holding his, his heart thumping, but his mind wanting to recoil. "Maybe..." he whispered.

Declan looked up and smiled tentatively. "Okay. I'll take that." He looked down at Bailey's palm. "Damn, you have some serious calluses."

That broke the serious mood. Bailey laughed, pulling his hand away. "Hazard of the bars and rings."

"But don't you wear those leather thingys?" Declan asked falling back into step with Bailey as they continued walking.

"Leather thingys? They're called grips. And yes, they help prevent some rips, but you still get some rubbing."

"Rips?"

"Yeah, like a blister, but it rips the skin open. Bleeds sometimes..." Bailey shrugged like it was no big deal; it wasn't, for him.

Bailey looked up as they approached his house, stopping short. "Oh, hell."

Declan looked around, obviously seeking out the source of Bailey's dismay. "What?"

"Daniel is here." Bailey's hand tightened on his bag.

"Who's Daniel?"

"My—our family's lawyer. He's managing my... my dad's estate," Bailey finished quietly.

"Oh." Declan glanced at the house, at the two cars. The furrow in his brow showed his confusion. "Does he usually come by the house? Are you worried about your dad's, you know, estate stuff?"

Bailey huffed. "No, not really."

"Then what? Is he—?"

"He keeps coming to see my mom," Bailey bit out.

Declan blinked. "Oh. Is he like a jerk or something to you?"

Bailey kicked at a stone in the driveway. "No, not really. It's just... She's being..." Bailey kept breaking off, not knowing what to say. "I don't know..."

Declan nodded understandingly, and Bailey wondered if he really did. Those soulful eyes had Bailey wanting to spill more, which was so not like him. He couldn't believe how much he'd already shared with this hulking jock.

What the hell was he thinking? Oh, God, I'm letting myself get involved again... I can't...

"I-I gotta go," Bailey said abruptly, jogging for the door. "I'll—I'll see ya later."

Declan stared after him a moment, surprised by his sudden departure. "Okay," he finally called, waving. "I'll text ya—"

"Bailey! You're home!" he heard his mother's voice call as he pulled the door open, a giggle followed by a deep rumbling laugh had him grimacing. He had the momentary urge to run back outside to—

No. That was crazy. He couldn't—

Bailey just waved back at Declan before he slammed the door shut behind him, as if it would lock his emotions away as well.