Page 96 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

She’s always been my flame, bright with her glow, and dangerous in her beauty. But the closer the light, the bigger the shadow.

I was a fool to find comfort in her shade.

I’m desperate in its absence.

My voice jolts her out of her daze, and she musters up a small smile. “Hi, y’all. Come on in.”

Even her voice is flat.

“Everything okay?” Sarah asks, walking forward and sitting.

I follow behind but hesitate, my hands wrapping around the top of the chair as I stand behind it. I angle my head trying to catch Becca’s eyes.

She avoids my gaze.

“You okay doing it in here?” I remember the last time when she couldn’t leave the room fast enough.

She lifts her shoulders. “Here is fine. This won’t take long, anyway.”

Sarah’s eyebrow raises. “Oh? I’m excited to talk about what our options are—”

“I’m leavin’,” Becca interrupts.

My heart slingshots against my ribs. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

She keeps her eyes firmly on Sarah, not sparing me a glance.

“I’m movin’. It’s a spur of the moment thing, but since I won’t be here after this weekend, obviously, I won’t be able to help y’all with your weddin’.” She wraps a strand of hair around her finger.

My gut clamps so tight it makes me nauseous.

Sarah smiles big and wide. “Oh, how exciting! Where are you moving to?”

Becca opens her mouth, but a man’s voice interrupts.

“Don, I—oh, I’m sorry y’all, I’m lookin’ for the preacher.”

I twist in my seat, recognizing his auburn locks immediately. They’re identical to his son’s, who I played ball with in high school.

My stomach sinks. Great.

His brown eyes widen and he walks farther in the room, coming to stand beside my chair. “Elliot Carson. I heard you were back in town, but I didn’t believe it for a second. Can’t believe I’m seein’ you right here, in the flesh. How ya doin’, son?”

I nod. “Mr. Mazey, good to see you. I’m doing great, thanks. How’s Pete?”

Mr. Mazey chuckles, running a hand down his face. “Petey’s the same as he’s always been… tryin’ to put his mama in an early grave.”

I smile. That was definitely the truth back in high school. It warms my insides to know that not everything has turned upside down over the years. That even though things have changed for me, other things are still the same.

“This is my fiancée, Sarah,” I introduce. “Sarah, this is Mr. Mazey. I played ball with his son.”

I feel Becca’s stare on the back of my neck, and I grip the arms of the chair to resist turning around and trying to catch her eyes.

“Fiancée, huh? Y’all meet at that fancy college of yours? We follow all your games, you know. Lotta winnin’ goin’ on down there.”

Sarah titters. “We sure did. I started working with him his very first year. Been there for almost all of his one-hundred and thirty-five wins.” She grins at me, and I smile back, but there’s a pinch in my gut at the way the conversation is heading. I don’t want to talk about basketball. Not here. Not with Mr. Mazey. And definitely not with Becca.

“One-hundred-thirty-seven.”

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