Chapter 24: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 24

As Sage draws nearer, Grey and Braxton’s expressions morph into ones of…I don’t know. Guilt? There’s emotion there that doesn’t make any sense to me, but the shift was instantaneous in them both.

“Hi.” Sage bounces to a stop right in front of us.

“Hey.” Grey’s voice is rough, as though his throat is closing on him.

Braxton scrubs a hand through his hair before he finally smiles. “Looks like you were having fun over there.”

“Yeah, I—I was. And they were wondering if I could go over to the field with them and show them some kicking techniques.”

Braxton and Grey exchange a panicked expression. It’s how I imagine dads look when deciding if their daughter is old enough to date.

They both try to speak, but gibberish comes out. Surely Sage had playdates when he was younger—this isn’t much different. Well, okay, it is. Some of these guys are giants and old enough to drink, but they also know the town would kick their butts up and down the field if they ever got a seventeen-year-old into trouble.

“I can make sure Ethan keeps a close eye on him and drives him back to the Hideaway when they’re done. Ethan is truly a very good young man.”

“Yeah,” Braxton says.

“Right, yeah. Okay. That seems…” Grey trails off.

“Guys,” I snap my fingers to get them out of whatever funk they’re in. “It’s a university football field, and it’s three in the afternoon. There will be staff and grounds crew all over that stadium.”

“So is it okay if I go?” The hope in Sage’s voice makes my heart ache for him. Do his uncles have any idea how lonely he’s been?

“Sure,” Braxton says, and before he’s even finished, Sage is pulling his long, dirty-blond hair into a ponytail.

“Great. I’ll be home for dinner. Can—can the guys come? I mean, if they want to?”

Braxton turns to me with so many questions written on his face, as if he’s lost and needs directions.

“It’s fine with me. Your uncles will have to buy pizza because I can cook for an army, but not on such short notice.”

As soon as money comes into the conversation, Grey appears to snap out of it. “Done. Text me how many are coming, and I’ll take care of it.” Then he spins in place and gets in line at Blissy’s.

“Is he okay?” Sage asks, but I was asking myself the same thing.

“He’ll be fine,” Braxton says. “I think maybe we’re just realizing that some of our choices may not have been in your best interest over the years.”

“That’s stupid,” Sage says, tugging on his ear. “You did the best you could, and that was pretty great. I know that you know that, and I’m fine.”

“I know. I won’t hug you because I don’t want to embarrass you in front of the guys, but I do need to have a conversation with them.”

Sage wears the expression you’d expect of a seventeen-year-old at that statement, so I insert myself once again.

“I’ll go with him. Come on, guys.”

I walk toward the table that’s littered with play sheets and notes. “Hey, guys, this is Braxton, one of Sage’s uncles.”

“Hi, Mr. Braxton,” they say in unison. It’s almost cultish and it makes me chuckle. Coach B. has taught them well!

“Sage was a great soccer player. I hear you’d like his help?” Braxton asks.

“Yes, sir,” Ethan says, standing.

“And you know that he won’t be eighteen for another few months?”

Ethan nods. “Yes, sir.” The military precision of Coach B. is unmatched.

“Okay, Ethan. I’m trusting you.”

“If anything happens to him, I will destroy you and your families,” Grey growls over my head.

“Grey,” I gasp, spinning and pushing him back a step with a hand to his chest. “You can’t threaten people here.”

He stares every player in the eye. “Watch me.”

Ethan, who is over six foot four and probably two hundred and thirty pounds, swallows loudly.

Even Braxton seems taken aback. “Um, have fun. I’ll see you at home.”

Sage nods, spares one worried expression Grey’s way, then turns back to the team. “I’m ready.”

Braxton and I back out of the way as the group files out of the Chug.

“And wear your seatbelt,” Grey shouts into the quietly buzzing space.

“What’s that about?” I ask, unsure if I actually want the answer.

“We’ve been sort of protective of Sage.” Braxton’s back to rubbing that spot on his chest.

“I can see that. But you can’t smother him, you know? He’s growing up.”

He nods but doesn’t answer.

“Hey, Madi,” Rose, the church coordinator, says. “I have you and Pops signed up for the Thanksgiving feast. Will he be serving as well?”

I completely forgot that Thanksgiving was coming up. “Oh, yes,” I spare a quick glance in Braxton’s direction. He’s listening, but I’m not convinced he’s paying attention. “Well, I’ll be serving. Pops will be, well, Pops.”

The older woman blushes. “Yes, and we wouldn’t want him any other way, now would we, dear?”

Ugh. Gag. Gross. Rose was friends with my grandmother, but that has never stopped her from flirting.

“I’ll see you on Thanksgiving. Have a good day,” I say, actively dismissing her.

“What’s happening on Thanksgiving?” Okay, so he was paying attention.

“It’s a lot of work to make Thanksgiving dinner for only me and Pops, so we volunteer at the church, cooking and serving meals to those in need.”

He stares at me as if I confuse him. “What about your friends? You don’t spend it with them?”

I shake my head. “Sometimes Clover will join us at the church, but she didn’t grow up with holidays, and any kind of organized religion makes her jumpy, so she really only goes to be with me, otherwise she likes to spend the day scaring herself silly with horror movies.”

Those lines between his brows could rival Grey’s. Speaking of Grey, I glance around the room and find him having an animated whisper-yell conversation with Savvy at the sound booth.

What the heck is wrong with those two?

Spinning back to Braxton, I suddenly understand his earlier confusion. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll still make y’all a Thanksgiving dinner. That’s no problem.”

His nose crinkles. “You just y’all’d me.”

“Huh?”

“You just said y’all. I think a little Southern sweetness has seeped into your bones, Miss Madison.”

Why does that fluster me so much?

“But we don’t exactly have a traditional Thanksgiving either.”

“What do you do?” I ask.

His eyes soften, and the right side of his upper lip tilts up. “We order enough Mexican food to feed a family of ten, then gorge ourselves all day long while watching football. Well, that’s if we weren’t playing football.”

“Mexican food, huh?” I cross my arms over my chest, drawing his gaze to my neckline.

He licks his lips, and I take a step forward.

“It sounds like we’ll have a full house tonight.” The worry creeps back into his features. “Do you think any of them will actually come? What college kid wants to hang out with a seventeen-year-old?”

“I do think so, yes,” I say with conviction. “Those boys take their Friday night lights seriously, and they truly believe Sage can help. But also, I think a lot of those boys are only a year older than Sage. It’s a young team, and from what I could tell, they were really having fun with him.”

“He was…different,” he admits. “With them.”

“Kids do that when they’re around their peers, I think. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“I think you’re right. It was just such a shock.”

We’re close enough to touch, but I don’t reach out even though everything in my body is screaming at me to make a connection. “Doesn’t he have any friends?” I ask to keep from throwing myself at him again.

Braxton drops his gaze to the floor, hiding his features from me. “He graduated high school so early, it’s been difficult.”

“I get that. Let’s see how tonight plays out, huh?”

“And tomorrow, I’m taking you for that date.”

That elicits heat to rise high in my cheeks. It’s as though just the thought of a date with Braxton presses on all my pleasure buttons.

“Is that so?”

“Fact, Miss Madison. Now let’s go grab Grey before Savvy knees him in the balls. Do you know what they’re arguing about?”

“I have no idea. She said she only met him that night at the fundraiser, but I’ve never seen two people more at odds than them. He’s fire, and she’s the gasoline.”

Braxton sighs heavily, then takes my hand for everyone in the room to see.

“Let’s go keep our best friends from killing each other, and then go spy on Sage.”

“What?” I laugh. “We’re not going to spy on him.”

“Oh, but we are. And you’re going to help us.”

I roll my eyes but allow him to tug me across the room. Sometimes it’s better to go with the flow than trying to walk upstream.

“Where the hell did you find binoculars?” Grey whispers to my left.

We’re belly-down underneath the bleachers of the student section, trying to get close enough to see and hear what the boys are doing.

“If we get caught, I’m blaming the both of you,” I whisper. “And I grabbed these from Moose’s truck before we left. He always has an extra set.”

“Do I even want to know?” Grey sighs.

“So, you’re a thief, are you?” Braxton teases.

“I prefer habitual borrower, if you will. I’ll give these back tomorrow.”

“What are they saying?” Grey cuts right to the chase.

I lift up onto my elbows and peer over the top of the bottom bleacher. “I’m not a professional lip reader, but I’m proficient. It looks, well…”

“What? What is it?” Grey has no chill, so he also lifts onto his elbows, and when he finds Sage, he tilts his head like a dog about to get a treat.

“Fine, I’ll look myself.” Braxton mutters, pressing up next to me. Then he too peeks out through the metal bench.

Sage has a whistle around his neck and is standing next to Coach B. as the offensive line takes turns kicking a field goal.

“Don’t they have a special teams coach for this?” Grey whispers.

“They did,” I say. “But he went to our rivals over in Cheshire County.”

“And that’s how they lost next year’s recruit. He followed the coach,” Braxton guesses.

“Oh, yeah. And we play them in two weeks, so everyone in town will be fired up. They’re already putting up signs everywhere.”

“That’s what all the You Got Burned signs are for?” Braxton asks.

“Yup. Wait until you see mine.”

He stares at me as if for the first time. “I think I like this competitive side.”

“Shh,” Grey hisses. “They’re coming this way. Get down.”

All three of us fall face-first into the dirt.

“Practices are closed.”

“Oh, crap,” I whisper. “That’s Coach B.”

“We got some spies, Coach?” I can’t place that voice, but then one voice melds into many and I know we’re caught.

“Is it County?”

“Or maybe Kennesaw,” someone else says.

“Show yourselves.” That’s Trevon’s voice. At least he’ll show us some mercy.

I blow out a harsh breath, then army-crawl backward until I can stand, and the guys follow me out. By the time we walk to the end of the bleachers, the entire team is standing there ready to kick our butts.

“Madison? What in the Sam Hill are you doing under there?” Coach B. bellows.

The three of us walk with our heads bowed.

“For fuck’s sake,” Coach mutters.

All three of us snap our heads up to find Sage brimming with glee from ear to freaking ear.

“Coach, you know Madi. These are my uncles I was telling you about.”

Coach narrows his gaze. First at Braxton, then at Grey. I’m shocked when Coach B. takes a step away from Grey because I’ve never seen that man back down from anything.

“Did you know this boy can kick a forty-yard field goal and make it nine times out of ten?”

“Professional players average at the thirty-five,” Grey snaps. He really needs to work on his tone.

“I know. And he’s here kicking forty-yarders in tennis shoes while my O-line can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

“Let him walk on,” someone in the back yells.

Grey and Braxton look at each other in shock.

“Excuse me?” Grey doesn’t raise his voice, but he commands these players—maybe better than Coach B.

“He’s already enrolled in community college, right? He hasn’t officially dropped?” In all my years living in Happiness, I’ve never seen Coach B. rattled. But he is now.

“What’s your point?” Poor Grey. His jaw is going to crack if he doesn’t loosen up.

Braxton shifts so he stands between me and Grey, probably in case he has to hold back the angry bear.

“We have co-ops here at the university with a lot of community colleges. And it’s football in the South—the school will make it happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Braxton says, holding up a hand. “What are you saying?”

“I want Sage enrolled at Happiness University, and I want him on my team.”

I’ve been in this stadium hundreds of times, and never, not once, has silence been this loud.