Page 107 of The Renegade Billionaire
“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 helldid 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 theYou Got Burnedsigns 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.
