He muttered something in German that I only caught bits and pieces of, but it was enough for me to string it together. It only further pissed me off. Three years of high school German had taught me a few things.

I turned around and leveled a look at him. “The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t know what the hell your problem has been lately, but I’ve had it!”

Kulti’s nostrils flared as a vein in his neck pulsed. “My problem? My problem?” His accent became so much thicker when he was angry; I had to really pay attention to know what he was saying.

“Yes! Your problem. Whatever the hell is up your ass needs to come right back out.”

“There is nothing up my ass!”

I almost made a crack about how there definitely had to be something up his ass, but at the last second decided I was too angry to try and make light of the situation.

“I beg to differ,” I stuck with instead. “You’re my best friend one minute, and the next minute you look disgusted when I try to play around with you in front of your friends. I’m not going to let you choose when we’re friends, and when we’re not.”

It took me a second to realize that the words had actually come out of my mouth. I hadn’t planned on bringing it up; I really hadn’t, but… well, too late now. Damn it.

I was an idiot. “I understand. It’s fine. We can be friends in private, but we can’t be friends in public.” I swallowed. “Look, there’s definitely something bothering you, but you don’t want to tell me, just like you don’t want to tell me anything else. That’s all right.”

“Who said I don’t want to be friends with you in public?” He sounded surprisingly indignant.

“You did. I tried to touch you after we were done with the kids, when we were around Franz and Alejandro, and you took a step away. Remember? We’re always pushing each other and messing around, and suddenly it was obviously not okay because we were in front of your friends. I know I’m not some super-celebrity or anything, but I didn’t think you’d pull away like that. You embarrassed me, and I don’t embarrass easily, all right?”

Kulti’s hands fisted at his sides, and then he brought them up to cover his eyes. “Sal,” he cursed in angry-sounding German. “You say that we’re friends, but you didn’t think to tell me that you’ve been spending time with Franz?”

Was this a joke? I made myself calm down. “I saw him three times after you started acting like I had the plague and frowning all the time. We weren’t really talking and you were already walking around with a dirty diaper for some reason I don’t even understand, buddy,” I explained.

Those eyes, a perfect shade between green-green and hazel-brown, stared straight ahead before he laid into me.

“He’s married!” Kulti shouted abruptly.

My eyes went wide, and I had to suck in a breath to rein in my anger. “What the hell do you think we were doing?” I asked slowly.

Kulti bared his teeth at me. “I have no idea because you didn’t fucking tell me!”

Patience. Holy shit, I needed a whole bunch of patience.

I didn’t find it.

I lost it.

“We were practicing, you jackass! What the hell is wrong with that?” I screamed at him. Holy shit.

“Then why were you were both being secretive?” he growled, fury lighting up his light-colored eyes.

My eye started twitching. “We went to the field by my house. He showed me some exercises I could do to work on my left foot ball handling, you fucking, fucking jackass. He said I should think about playing in Europe, okay? That’s the big conspiracy, the big secret, you idiot. He said I should go to Europe and join a club there so I could play for their national team…”