Page 126 of The Renegade Billionaire
“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.”
