He had to go. He was in aLeague of Legendstournament that evening. The day should have been spent practicing for the game. He hoped he didn’t fuck his team up.
The band of rebels he’d always played with insisted he’d given up his rebel card by giving into the establishment’s view of normality. He couldn’t help the grin as he shut himself in the walk-in-closet for privacy. His buddies weren’t wrong, but they also didn’t have a problem with all the sponsorships and free trips they got because of his deep pockets. Hell, most of them were employed by him these days. Capitalism couldn’t be all bad.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Dad.” Defeat edged every syllable Chad Reeves muttered into the phone. The pause he’d given in packing his weekender resumed. Chad stuffed in the last few items for the quick, couple of day turnaround trip. He took a final glance around the room, searching for anything he may have forgotten. Tension tightened his neck and shoulders. His father never listened to him anymore.
All his childhood engrained manners of appreciation taught to him by his father and mother, Dylan and Teri Reeves, forced their way to the surface. He had to remember all the well-meaning gifts and gestures his father gave him. From this badass upper floor apartment in the middle of the Uptown area of Dallas, Texas, to the soft leather duffle bag he used to pack for this trip. All provided by his father and stepdad, Tristan Wilder, one of the richest men in the world, to ensure he had a comfortable life.
The guilt wrecked his mood even further. He was a selfish bastard for not eagerly accepting his father’s help and moving on with his day. A heavy sigh slipped free as he plopped his ass down on the most expensive mattress on the market. It absorbed his body as if made just for him. Another nonnegotiable gift when he moved in.
“Tell me what’s wrong?” Dylan asked. His tone indicated that he had finally tuned in, becoming present to the conversation, paying closer attention to Chad’s mood.
What did he say that he hadn’t said a hundred times over by now?
His inner truth didn’t create a balance within him either. Wanting to be a self-made man, to have his own accomplishments, ones he earned himself, made him sound like an utter hypocrite. When he was younger, fresh out of high school and his dad had first come out, revealing his and Tristan’s relationship, Chad had enjoyed riding on his stepfather’s name and his own newfound local fame.
Seven years later, he couldn’t escape the clamor of being a Wilder no matter how hard he tried. He recognized the visual cues a person gave once they realized who he was related to. Even finding real friends anymore had become near impossible. People always had some angle to try to get to Tristan.
“All right, I’m alone. I stepped outside. Now tell me what’s wrong.” Dylan tried again to get Chad to talk, this time lowering his voice as the sounds of the Southern California ocean filled the background.
“It’s nothing, Dad. Forget it.” That had to be a good enough answer for right now because the solutions to his problems wouldn’t come easy.
Tristan had no biological children of his own and took to parenting like a kid in a candy store. He could easily be nominated the world’s best stepfather. Nothing ever rattled the man. Tristan made it his life’s goal to attend every one of Chad’s golf tournaments. He traipsed after Chad, determined to show his support. In return, he created a frenzy for the paparazzi who followed the PGA tour wherever it went.
After so long, the newness of having a ready-made family should have worn off. Not for Tristan though. His limitless generosity and attention weren’t going anywhere, making Chad’s hard-earned personal achievements suspect to those competing against him. At least based on all the ribbing he took.
Honestly, it was messing with his head.
“Please…” his father’s voice sounded concerned, even hurt. A lecture about the validity of feelings and Chad’s truth being worthy was on its way if he didn’t say something soon.
He anchored the phone between his ear and shoulder, getting to his feet. No one had time for all his self-pity. He zipped the bag closed as frustration hardened the already tightened muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m just being me. I feel like if Wilder Incorporated jumps in and sponsors me on the tour, then also sponsors the PGA, no one’s gonna believe my skill earned my way there. I get that you’re both proud I’ve made it this far. I appreciate your support, but I did this, Dad.” Did he truly earn his successes or were they given to him because of Tristan’s constant involvement?
There was no way to know for sure. Which sucked.
“We know you’re a gifted athlete, son. Of course you did. Twenty-five years old and you’ve earned playing privileges. Tristan’s happy for you. He wants to show his support. And it’s not only about you. Wilder’s expanding their physical fitness initiative. Something you started when you put StreamTrainer in front of us,” Dylan reiterated, his voice lowering, putting all the weight back on Chad’s shoulders. “I can tell him you’d rather not play under Wilder Sports.”
Like always, Chad felt like a heel and his heart got in the way. Tristan would pretend to understand but get his feelings bruised.
And the whole Wilder Sports concept was truly Chad’s idea. He’d mentioned it over the holidays. A program to compete against Red Bull Sports. Tristan had fallen hook, line, and sinker.
Which reminded him of the exact reason for his upcoming trip in the first place. He had a plane to catch. Chad grabbed the bag strap and slung it over his shoulder as he pivoted toward his bedroom door. He grabbed his sunglasses, wallet, and passport. His flip-flops were kicked off right inside the entry. His packed surfboard waited by the shoes.
“Don’t tell Tristan. I told you it’s just me being me. I’ll appreciate this at some point. Tell him I’m heading to Costa Rica to surf with Kai Maloney. I’ll report back as soon as I know something.”
His father’s even breaths were the only thing breaking the silence on the other end of the phone, making him feel like a bigger jerk for being ungrateful.
“If you aren’t interested in finding talent for WS, just tell Tristan. He only moved forward with the concept after you seemed on board with helping. You’re a smart man. There’s nothing he thinks you can’t do. Tell him you don’t want to be interim head of the project. Maybe one of the StreamTrainer brothers could take the lead in finding athletes until we hire someone. You don’t have to be involved.”
The mention of the StreamTrainer brothers caused Chad’s heart to give a strange quiver. He’d known Ducky Reigns for years. Since they were boys playingLeague of Legendsover Xbox together. He wasn’t sure there were too many secrets Ducky didn’t know about him. They were close in a way only gamers could understand. They had always been.
Moreover, Ducky was the only person who had never tried to use him for his family connection. Hell, Chad had even offered to put Ducky’s new business in front of his dad. Chad had never done that for anyone else. He fought to ignore his body’s sudden surge of desire at the mention of Ducky and switched his phone to his other hand to grab the surfboard.
The protective thing he did with Ducky was weird, but Chad had reconciled those feelings a long time ago. Talk about self-made, that was Ducky. Chad’s bad mood took a deeper dive as he left his apartment, letting the door swing heavily shut behind him.
You’re going down the Ducky rabbit hole right now. Focus.
“It’s not that, Dad. I volunteered to go to Costa Rica. I think Kai’s the kind of athlete to help start this up for us. Be our headliner.”
