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I’m still processing the idea of Bea and Cooper together. If it’s possible. Bea is a by-the-book sort of person. She’s a lot like her mother. Quiet, reserved, put-together. I can’t imagine her with someone as rough and brooding as Cooper in a regular scenario, but in the scenario where she had been Rob’s live-in girlfriend, it seems utterly impossible. Something she would think was too uncouth to consider. I was going to have to get caught up on whatever was going on. If Quentin was right and my quiet bestie decided she needed “different” for a rebound. Although rebounds don’t usually sign half-a-million-dollar checks.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Thinking about Bea with Cooper. How that would work, if it was in fact,working.”
“Probably the same way we work.”
“We’re different. We’re both from sports families. We know this world. We make sense.”
Quentin’s eyes go wide.
“Madness, I promise you. The only way we’ve gotten away with this for as long as we have is that no one thinks the Westfield Princess is letting me put my filthy hands on her.”
“I like your filthy hands. And your filthy mouth. And just really everything.” I stand on my tippy toes to kiss him, and he wraps his hand around the back of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair. He kisses me until I feel like I might be tempted to drag him back to bed. In fact, I suspect that’s exactly what he wants to do. But we don’t have time. It’s the homeopener. Which means it’s our big day today. He relents slowly when I start to pull away, kissing me one last time for good measure.
“We’re going to finish that later.” His eyes drift over me before he resumes drinking his coffee.
“Your uncle doesn’t suspect?”
“My uncle doesn’t want to know.”
“Fair enough.”
“At some point though, if we keep up like this…”
“I know. With the season starting, I’m sure A.J. and I can conveniently go our separate ways soon. I was just hoping he’d have a few wins under him first. Something that reinvigorates his support before my dad can try to go in for the kill again.”
“Even if he does… your dad is your dad. Vindictive as fuck. Willing to hold on to something to make sure it delivers a KO. I assumed he told you a long time ago about me. Shocked he didn’t.”
“Yes, well… he was probably saving that for the day we ended up back together. He’ll be sorely disappointed you took that away from him.”
“Good.” He kisses the top of my head. “Gonna start getting ready. You making breakfast or did you want to order something?”
“I’m making my guy breakfast for his big day, obviously.” I flash him a playful smile.
“You’re the best, Madness.”
When I getto the box it’s already nearly time for the team to come out. I’m nervous as hell. Quentin’s social media numbers have been up, and he’s had tons of positive press. Plenty of articles that have welcomed him as a new era, and all the talkingheads on sports media this morning have been saying this is one of the most anticipated games of the day. The stadium is absolutely packed and given the less than stellar season last year, that’s a good sign. The potential that Quentin and I have convinced fans he can be the kind of person they want to see out on this field long term.
I glance out into the sea of jerseys and Chaos gear beneath me, and I even spot a not-insignificant number of Undergrove jerseys. Brand new ones with the “13” practically gleaming across their backs in gold.
Bea steps up next to me, handing me a drink.
“Think I’m going to need it?”
“Yes. To toast to your success.”
“I’m terrified they’ll boo him.”
“Oh, someone will. They always do. But I think you’re going to be surprised at how excited they are for him.”
“I hope so. I’ve been wondering if I’m losing my edge since…” I don’t fill in the blank because there are other people in the box today, friends and Undergrove family who I don’t think need to know our business just yet. They can find out with the rest of the public.
“Speaking of, does… know?” Bea’s eyes drift to the sidelines indicating Coach Undergrove.
“I don’t know, actually. I’d guess he suspects. Probably a plausible deniability situation if I had to guess.”
“How do you think he’ll react?”
