Chapter 28: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 28

“Three times?” Clover whisper-yells. Savvy is leaning over me on my other side practically salivating.

This isn’t a conversation I wanted to have at a college football game, but Clover was running late because she had to finish writing a letter to Valen, freaking Valen, who responds with excerpts of sonnets none of us understand, and since Savvy always drives, they both arrived just before kickoff.

We haven’t had any other time to get together this week because Braxton and Pops have now roped Grey into their renovation projects and I’ve had to rush home for two minor injuries—both involving a nail gun. It got to the point that Blissy told me to just stay home Thursday and Friday to make sure no one lost a finger.

“Yes,” I whisper back. The three of us have our heads together while the game and the crowd roar around us, but Braxton and Grey finally made a beer run that gave us a moment to catch up.

“Was it good?” Savvy asks.

“Better than good. I think my head exploded a couple of times, and I left my body at least once. Why didn’t you tell me sex could be⁠—”

“Bow chicka bow wow,” Savvy sings.

“Oh God,” I mutter, dropping my face into my hands when Mr. and Mrs. Cross turn around in front of us. “Sorry. Ignore her. She’s been cooped up in the house all week.”

Mrs. Cross winks at me, and I officially wish for death by embarrassment.

“I mean, it’s pretty romantic.” Clover always has a dreamy quality to her tone, but now she has hearts in her eyeballs too. “I don’t even know if he slept the night before. We were getting texts all night long with suggestions and questions and credit card numbers. By the way, you should tell him to never, ever do that again. Who just hands over a credit card number via text message?”

“Someone who’s never had to worry about money, that’s who.” Savvy leans back in her seat and crosses her arms.

“Hey,” Grey says, then holds a beer out to Clover.

Now Savvy’s sudden attitude shift makes sense.

Just as Clover’s reaching for it, Sunny, the team’s giant smiling sunray mascot, bumps into Braxton with one of his outstretched sunbeams. It causes him to trip over our bags on the ground and fall into Grey, who still has a beer in each hand. When Grey lurches forward, beer spills from both cups and lands all over Savvy.

Braxton stands behind him, holding three beers while staring at the mess as if it’s his fault.

Why couldn’t this just be a normal outing?

Savvy stands slowly while Braxton steps in front of Grey, apologizing profusely.

“It’s fine,” she says, holding her pale yellow cropped sweatshirt away from her body.

“For fuck’s sake,” Grey says. “Take these.” He hands what’s left of the beer to Clover, then wraps his giant fingers around Savvy’s slender wrist and drags her behind him.

“Hey,” she says, attempting to swat his hand away with her remaining free limb. “What are you doing?”

They’re already three stairs up and away from us before he turns to her.

“The game is about to start, and I’m not going to miss it because everyone is scrambling to get you dry. Let’s go.”

Her wide gaze seeks mine, but all I have to offer is a shrug. I have no idea what the guy is up to.

Braxton places the beers in the cup holders, pulls out a giant wad of napkins from his back pocket, and begins wiping down the seats. “I’m so sorry,” he says for the hundredth time.

“It was an accident,” Clover says. “She wasn’t mad. We’ve all done it.”

He nods in thanks to my friend, drops the wet napkins to the ground, and takes a seat next to me.

“She’s got to be a little pissed.” He nudges my arm off the armrest, slips his arm underneath mine, clasps our hands, then places them in his lap. “I’ll buy her a new outfit.”

The band begins, and Clover startles in her seat with both arms shooting into the air, sending the popcorn she was holding in every direction.

Since these are our season ticket seats, everyone around us is used to her and simply brushes the popcorn away.

“See, we’re all a little messy.” I cuddle into his arm. I’m so at peace it makes me nervous for what’s to come, but I’m determined to focus on the good today. Tomorrow is a worry for future me.

He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. A collective chorus of “Aw” breaks out around us, and Clover elbows me in the side, then points to the jumbo screen where we’ve caught the attention of the kiss camera.

What did I ever do to deserve being put on display when things are finally going right?

“It’s a pretty big step.” Braxton’s mouth is at my ear. “What do you say, sunshine? Can I show them you’re mine?”

I swore I would never belong to anyone ever again, but this man has a way of getting me to break every promise I’ve ever made to myself.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss” is the new chant around the stadium. A quick glance up tells me the camera is still on us.

“Does that mean you’re mine too?”

“Well, you are my girlfriend, and I’m your boyfriend, so yeah. That’s exactly what it means. But do you want all of them to know?”

He’s slowly moving toward me. A hand in my hair. Turning my face. He’s giving the crowd what they want while giving me the time to decide.

“Show them.”

The instant the words leave my mouth, his lips crash into mine. By the noise around the stadium, you would think we’d just won the Happiness Cup.

When he pulls away, my body follows him, and my lungs burn with the need for oxygen.

“You literally suck the life from me when you kiss me that way. You’re like a vampire kisser, or a⁠—”

He kisses me again, but there’s no applause this time—the camera has moved on.

This one is gentler, softer, loving. Then he holds my head with one hand so he can speak directly into my ear.

“The first kiss was a fucking kiss. This one was a lovemaking kiss. See the difference?”

I’ve officially turned into a live version bobblehead, and I’m so thankful I’m not on the jumbotron right now.

The coin flip is in our favor, and he squeezes my hand as they kick the ball to our opponent. The energy of this stadium is intoxicating, and for a few minutes, I get to pretend that we’re a normal couple, living a simple life of college football and home renovations.

Truly, it’s been my goal since I was a child—stability—and for the first time I remember, it feels as if it might be within reach.

The euphoria filling my mind is cleared quickly by Savvy’s cutting voice.

“I didn’t ask you to come with me.” Her voice is so cold it could freeze hell with one syllable.

Clover has shifted seats to sit on Braxton’s other side, so when Savvy enters the row, she’s beside me and Grey takes the only one left—right next to her.

“Should we put a buffer between those two?” I ask Clover by leaning over Braxton’s lap.

She lifts up in her seat to stare at them over our heads. When she sits back down, she shakes her head. “Nah, let them work it out.”

“Good luck with that,” Braxton huffs. “This is a side of Grey I’ve never seen.”

I frown at Clover but sit back in my seat and watch them out of the corner of my eye. It’s silent for all of thirty seconds.

“You hardly missed anything,” Savvy says dismissively, then crosses her legs in the opposite direction of Grey, angling her body into my space.

“Half a quarter. It took you half a quarter to pick a goddamn sweatshirt.” Grey grumbles. “And Sage is on the field.”

“He’s not playing,” she snaps back.

They engage in some sort of glaring contest, but Savvy glances away first. I don’t blame her. The blue fire that burns behind his eyes is kind of terrifying. But my best friend isn’t one to back down from a challenge either, so this will be loads of fun today.

“Ignore them,” Braxton whispers, tucking me into his side.

“I didn’t get to see Sage before he left this morning. Was he nervous?” I ask.

Braxton shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t think so. This kid did half a semester’s worth of work in a week, so I don’t think he’s had time to be nervous. We’re pretty sure he won’t be active until next season anyway. Today is about getting a feel for the field and playing in front of this type of crowd. Plus, we’re going to have to work him out pretty aggressively so he’s ready to take these kinds of hits.”

“He looks great in his jersey. Oh!” I bounce in my seat. “We all have to get jerseys with his name and number on the back.”

He stares down at me, and if I weren’t such a chicken, I’d allow myself to believe he’s staring at me with love.

“He’s releasing too soon,” Grey shouts, which startles Clover again, but this time it’s her Sour Patch Kids that go flying.

We learned early on not to get her anything wet or sticky at the games, and she takes large, intermittent gulps of her beer when she thinks it’s safe—injury timeouts are her jam.

Grey jumps up. “He’s releasing too fucking soon,” he shouts again.

We’re close enough to the field that if any of the coaches were paying attention, they’d probably hear him and want to kick him out of the stadium.

“Why the hell can’t anyone see that? Who are the clowns coaching these kids?”

“Ah, so I take it he’s competitive?” I murmur into Braxton’s side.

“Football was his outlet growing up. He loves the game, but this is the first time I’ve seen him getting into it since he quit.”

“What the hell?” Grey pulls on the ends of his hair. The man’s going to give himself a heart attack before this game is over.

“If you know so much, why don’t you march your ass right down there and have it out with the coaches?” Savvy taunts.

“Oh, shit,” Braxton mutters.

Here comes another fiery standoff between the two of them.

“You don’t think I know what I’m talking about?” The rumble in his voice rivals everyone in the stands stomping on the floor.

“I don’t care if you do. That’s not the point. You’re sitting here complaining like an ex-pro reliving his glory days. If you know better than the coaches, do something about it.”

“Savvy,” I warn. “You know he can’t just march onto the field.”

“Fuck,” Braxton curses.

Grey is on his feet again, but he’s not looking at me or Braxton. No, he’s still throwing that blue fire Savvy’s way. And if I could see her expression, I know it would match his.

Grey leans into Savvy’s space. She and I recline in reaction to the volcano of a man.

“Don’t ever underestimate me, sweetheart.”

The next thing I know, he’s gone, and Savvy and I exhale as if we share lungs.

“He’s going through…something,” Braxton says with unease coating every word.

“‘Through something’? You don’t say.” Savvy is all snark and acid today. “At least he’s gone. Now can we watch some football please?”

I nod but keep an eye on her. She shakes out her hands like she’s releasing tension, but I know she’s not afraid of him. I have no idea what emotion he’s pulling from her, and I’m not sure she does either.

“I’ll speak to him,” Braxton says on my other side. “Now, can we talk about something fun, like Thanksgiving?”

Clover snorts next to him, and even Savvy leans forward to glare at him.

“Fun?” He has to be joking.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“You forget that I’m volunteering at the church that day, and then Sunshine U’s rival is playing that night.”

He smirks as though I missed the joke. “Sounds fun to me. Grey and Sage will help too. What do you ladies have going on? How about we volunteer with Madison, then Grey and I will make dinner for everyone and we can watch the game on TV.”

“You’re going to make dinner?” Yup, I sound horrified because I am.

“I can follow a recipe when I don’t have a seventy-year-old helper. Where is he today, anyway?”

“Scorekeeper’s booth,” Clover says with a mouthful of candy.

Braxton looks to me for explanation.

“He used to be the spotter for the announcer. You know, he’d watch jersey numbers and tell the announcer, but his eyesight is going, and they don’t have the heart to kick him out, so he sits up there chatting everyone’s ear off. It’s a highlight for him.”

Braxton’s laughter fills me with such joy. “I should’ve guessed. I thought I heard his laugh over the sound system before the national anthem.”

“Yup. That’s⁠—”

“How the hell did he get down there?” Savvy interrupts and points at the field.

Grey marches across the turf as though he owns the place, and goes nose to nose with Coach B. From here, it appears that they’re both shouting at each other.

“Gross,” Clover says. “They’re going to get spittle in each other’s mouths if they keep shouting at each other that way.”

It goes on for two full minutes with them both waving wildly, then just as quickly as it started, it stops, and Grey points to Ethan, then practically drags him to the medical tent.

“What’s he doing?”

Braxton is relaxed and smiling, not at all bothered that his best friend just got into it with a college football coach.

“He’s taking him into the medical tent. It’s the only enclosed space on the field. It’ll allow him to make adjustments to Ethan’s arm without prying eyes on him.”

“They’ve been in there a long time,” I say after the other team gets a second down.

“He’ll take every second available. Trust me, he knows the play clock, and he hears what’s going on in the field. He’ll get the kid out there when he’s needed.”

True to his word, three plays later, our defense intercepts the ball, and Ethan comes barreling out of the tent, while Grey saunters to the sidelines.

No one knows what to make of him, so they give him wide berth as he stands there, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt.

“Does he know it’s Saturday?”

“He always dresses that way unless he’s working out,” Braxton says.

The teams line up, and on the very first play, Ethan throws a forty-yard touchdown.

The jumbotron camera zooms in on Grey, but he’s staring into the crowd, directly at Savvy, then he salutes her and walks off the field.

“Okay.” I’m a little disoriented from that display.

“So, Thanksgiving will be fun, huh?” Braxton practically bounces in his seat as though he’s never been happier and shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

And that…

My thought is cut off when I spot Harry standing where the field meets the railing that leads to the spectator seating. His face is a mottled red, but that’s nothing to the hatred I find in his expression.

Braxton’s arm around me squeezes tighter, but I don’t dare to look away from my ex. I’ve seen Harry this shade of angry before—when his body is one tense muscle that rattles violently to contain it.

“Ignore him,” Braxton says with a kiss to the side of my head. Savvy squeezes my right hand in hers. I hadn’t even felt her grip it.

I wish I could ignore him. I wish I could remove him from my life. But the reality is, I know deep in my bones that Harry will never let me go.

The first time I walked away from him, he ruined my life.

What will happen now that he’s witness to me moving on?