Page 21 of The Brotherly Shove

"Hey Ma," I say as she polishes off her second beer. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, but it'll cost you another lager," she says as she lifts the empty bottle in Sam's direction and I chuckle at her. As if she doesn't already know that this whole meal is my treat. I would've taken her somewhere nice and expensive if she'd allowed it, but Ma loves her Friday traditions, birthday or otherwise. She'll drink two more Yuenglings and then go to bed with a scoop of chocolate ice cream and Dateline on TV.

"You know how I told you about the things I said to Lennon back at camp?" I say softly, reliving the verbal ass whooping she so rightfully gave me for treating someone so poorly when I'd admitted it to her a few weeks ago.

"Oh yes. My proudest moment as a mother, learning that all those 'treat people with kindness' lessons I gave you growing up went in one ear and right out the other." She rolls her eyes sarcastically and I wince.

"Yeah I know, Ma. I was a dick. I just…" I trail off, trying to find the words for how I'm feeling. "I don't know where to go next. When we won last night, it felt like old times. Like that horrible fight I instigated never happened. He was so happy and he was sharing that joy with me, but I don't deserve it. I don't know how to apologize to him when I don't deserve his forgiveness."

I sip my water while Ma mulls my words over. I switched after my first beer. I gotta make sure I can drive us home safely.

"Are you really sorry?" she asks me after a moment.

"Yes. I regretted the whole interaction immediately. I hate that I hurt him."

"Well, if that's the case, I think Lennon might already know. That kid feels his feelings out loud. If he still held your words against you, he wouldn't have been so cheerful with you last night. Maybe instead of trying to figure out how to apologize with words, do it with actions. You two are going to be playing together every week for the foreseeable future. Stop trying toavoid him. Hang out. Talk football. Bring up fun memories from your college days. Just talk to him again, and if it feels right, maybe then apologize with your words. It's all about opening the doors of communication."

I nod.

God. How do moms make everything seem so simple?

"Now I have a question for you, son of mine," she says, bumping my shoulder.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Do you still have feelings for Lennon? Romantic ones?" She looks at me in a way that tells me she already knows the answer.

Fortunately, my answer is cut short by Sam carrying a vanilla buttercream iced cake blazing with candles and the entire Buds wait staff singing 'Happy Birthday' to Ma as she turns a bright shade of red. I don't have it in me to explain to my mother why the word 'brother' has become my least favorite word in the English language.

Not today, at least.

CHAPTER 13

LENNON

Now

San Francisco, California

"Move to California, they said. It'll be warm and sunny all the time, they said," I mutter to myself as I crank the heat in my truck up even further. I need to call someone and demand a refund on this bullshit weather. I know it's November and all, but I didn't expect it to be colder than a witch's tit here. I thought moving to California was a guaranteed escape from frigid winters.

Too bad no one told me about the anomaly that is the Bay Area microclimates.

Fifty-five degree weather has never felt so cold.

It's a bye week for the Redwoods and the new team owner invited the entire team and coaching staff to a sort of Friendsgiving, sort of holiday party at his home in San Francisco. I've yet to meet Mr. Adler beyond a quick introduction to the entire team, so I did some googling in case we end up in conversation so that I could prevent coming off as an idiot. He apparently used to be some tech CEO—an industry I know jack shit about—and is now a fitness instructor for theSpin Sync streaming company. Another flop, since I avoid cardio outside of games and practice like the plague.

I did find out his wife is a writer, so I downloaded an audiobook to listen to on the drive, thinking maybe it would give me some common ground with the man.

Big mistake, seeing as fifteen minutes into the story two hockey players were going at it in a locker room and my pants started to tighten uncomfortably. I switched over to Noah Kahan after that, my nerves still firing on all cylinders.

"God, this place is ridiculous," I say as I pull my truck up to the valet stand outside the walled and gated structure of the mansion perched on a cliffside. Just west of the Golden Gate Bridge, the mansion sits high over the place where the Pacific Ocean meets the bay. The house resembles something I could envision sitting on an Italian hillside, except it's fucking enormous. Made of light and whitewashed brick, it's something I might describe as charming if it didn't look like it could fit thirty of my own apartments inside of it. Even from the end of the driveway, I can see the intricate carvings over the entryway and most windowsills. The lawn isn't perfectly manicured like you would expect, which I appreciate, because 'good looking' lawns are typically terrible for the environment. Instead, it's a jungle of different grass types, weeds, stray flowers, wild trees and discarded children's toys. "People actually live here?" I say under my breath and someone speaks up behind me.

"Yup. This isn't even the Adler's only place in the city. They have a massive penthouse in Pacific Heights as well. Cannon told me they also have residences littered around Europe, not to mention the South Pacific island Adler bought his wife as a wedding present." Breaker says as I slide out of the car and I hand my key FOB to the waiting attendant. It's been three weeks since the game in Knoxville, and Breaker has been different towards me. Friendly even. Not buddy-buddy like we once were,but he's not actively avoiding me or yelling at me in deserted hallways, so I'll take my wins where I can get them.

Unfortunately, Kasper's leg took a beating in that game and he's out for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, Breaker has stepped the hell up as quarterback. We've played three times, twice at home and once away. We won both times on our own field, and even though we lost the away game in Denver by one field goal it was still a solid game. Breaker threw for three touchdowns, the other team just edged us out at the buzzer.

Not to mention all of the positive press surrounding what the internet has dubbed 'The Brotherly Shove'. Breaker, the O-line and I have gotten it down to an art at this point. I've never had so many fourth down scenarios where a coach has told us to go for it instead of punting, but The Shove is unstoppable. I've yet to unsuccessfully carry Breaker over that line of scrimmage, and the high I get every time we get that fresh set of downs is unmatched.

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