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“Better than other coaches I know.”
Her mouth flattens, and she raises her brows in recognition of that truth. We don’t have time to discuss that problem though because a moment later the lights are coming on, and the player tunnel is set up. I reach out and grab her hand, and she squeezes mine in return.
They start introducing the offensive players, one afteranother they come out of the tunnel, and I scream loudly when they introduce Easton. It garners a few looks from other people I don’t know in the box, not that I care. Let them talk shit in their group chat if they want.
When they get to Quentin though, the butterflies kick up in my stomach, and I’m bouncing on my tiptoes waiting for him to come out, hoping that they don’t boo him so loudly it drowns out the announcer. I squeeze Bea’s hand tight and close my eyes.
“And now… for our brand-new quarterback. Lucky number thirteen—Quentin Undergrove!”
The crowd erupts into cheers so loud that if there are any boos, I can’t hear them. I open my eyes to watch him run out onto the field, the clapping hits a crescendo, and they show a couple of the “Welcome to the Chaos #13” signs that people are waving around to greet him. I can see the smile on his face as the camera pans to him, and the rest of the team gathers around him before they head to the sidelines.
“See. I told you. It’s fine.” Bea grins at me.
“Thankfully.”
“So… Question.”I sit down next to Bea in the box during halftime. She’s off in a corner alone sipping her drink and answering messages on her phone, which gives us a little bit of privacy for this conversation. Because as excited as I was this morning to have the money for the property, thinking about leaving this man now feels wrong. Throws a pall over the whole celebration really. I’m wondering though if I’m as alone in that sentiment as I thought I was.
“Answer, maybe.” She smiles at me and tucks her phone away.
“How are we feeling about the property?”
“Like we still don’t have the money.”
“But if we did. If we had all of it and could make a cash offer this week. How do you feel about it?”
“Do we have all the money?” She studies me.
“We do. As of this morning. And then some because of the money Cooper gave you.”
“So we have Quentin to thank.”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t want to leave because you’re in love with him.” Bea doesn’t say it with any emotion. It’s just a statement of fact. Her wanting to know if it’s true or not.
“I’m having my doubts, if I’m honest. I don’t want to change course for a man. And trust me when I say I see the irony in changing course for a man who I thought wouldn’t change course for me once upon a time. But more importantly, I don’t want to let my best friend down.” I look over at her, and she gives me a small smile, her eyes going soft.
“Mads, you could never let me down. You’ve been there through everything. All the crap with Rob. Made sure you found work for me when Colorado fell through. I don’t want you to do something just for me. I want you to do it because your heart is in it, and you think it’s a smart business decision.”
I squeeze her arm and lay my head on her shoulder. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you.”
We sit in silence for a moment. Overtaken by the sounds of the halftime show and chatter in the booth. I’m trying to think of how to ask her the next thing without prying too much. If she hasn’t shared, there could be a reason, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“Did Cooper give you the money for the same reason?”
I see her wince a little, but then she straightens her shoulders and sits back.
“No. He’s not in love with me.”
“But something’s going on there?”
“Maybe.” She shifts in her seat.
“If there is… and it makes you happy, I’m glad. Rob was awful to you. Especially at the end.”
“He’s still his brother.”
