Page 128 of Recipe for Rivals

“Go right in,” she said. “I won’t make you dig out your license with those trays in your arms.”

“Thank you, Ms. Corbin.”

She held the door for me and I walked down the hallway, the smell of glue and rubber filling my nose. The door to the gym was propped open, and my heart leapt when I noticed Dusty standing off to the side, looking at his phone.

I put the tray of cookies on a table and went to him, my feet slowing when I noticed the despair on his face. It had taken a series of conversations with his grandpa, some more lucid than others, to piece together the story of his parents. They had made contact a few times, but since they’d usually only wanted money, Dusty’s grandpa had cut them off. When they’d stolen the Darth Vader bank, that had been the final straw. He’d forbidden them from contacting again.

It hadn’t stopped them entirely, but Dusty’s grandpa did his best to protect him. Both of his parents had died within a few years of each other, before Dusty finished college. His grandpa kept the secret because he didn’t want anything to derail Dusty. Now that he knew, though, he’d been free of that nagging curiosity, wondering if they were out there somewhere.

Given the expression on his face, I was worried something had happened with his grandpa, leaving him entirely without blood relatives.

“What happened?” I asked.

He looked up sharply, noticing me for the first time. “It’s Brody.”

I clutched his arm. “He’s hurt?”

Dusty’s brows drew together. “What? No. He’s fine. Well,he’smostlyfine. You know how he got into both UT Austin and Texas A&M?”

My concern immediately vanished. “Let me guess—he chose A&M?”

Dusty’s face was a picture of sorrow. “Yes.”

I started walking away. Tables needed to be set up and we had planets to hang from the ceiling.

“You don’t understand,” he complained. “I don’t know how to support A&M.”

“But you know how to support Brody,” I shot back.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and breathed. “This will be hard for me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought someonedied.”

He looked wounded. “My pride has, a little.”

I picked up the paper planets Desi had ordered and crossed the gym to slap them against his chest. “Go ahead and assemble these. They’ll take your mind off it.”

He closed his hand over mine and tugged, leaning in. “You haven’t kissed me yet.”

“After that whole display?”

“I need it more now. You know how hard this is for me.”

It was true. This man and his football. I leaned against him, squishing the paper planets between us, and kissed him. “Hello.”

“Hello,” he repeated against my lips.

“Keep it rated G, please,” Desi said, coming into the gym with her arms full of decorations. She was laughing, though, so I kissed him once more.

“You’ll survive, I think,” I said, taking one planet back to start assembling it.

“Maybe,” Dusty said noncommittally. “Brody is meeting us at Gigi’s for a celebration dinner tonight. Can you make it?”

“After the science fair? Yes.”

“Perfect.”

He’d be fine. I knew it, and he knew it. And he proved it that night when he showed up at Gigi’s Diner wearing a Texas A&M shirt he’d pilfered from Tucker’s closet, then proudly hugged Brody.

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