Page 157 of Forever Relentless

“Well, then, if you see yourself in a twenty-one-year-old college student, you should be getting a big wake-up call, Mase.”

I screwed my eyes shut. That was so harsh.

“I am. That’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”

“Huh?”

“I got a new job.”

He sounded shy. My brother never sounded shy. “I’m listening.”

“Part-time, volunteering.”

“So not paid.” God, who made me the money police?

“No. Not financially. Hopefully spiritually.”

“I will hurt you if you don’t spill the beans.” I sat down on a bench not far from the main quad.

“I’m helping Coach Milne with the Hawks.”

The Hartwell Hawks were the high-school football team back home.

“Coaching?” I sat up straight. “High-school football coaching?” I was stupidly excited. “You haven’t been near a ball since—”

“I know.” His voice was gruff. “But you know, I watch. Sometimes. I’ve seen your boy toy play. He’s good. Could be faster, but he’ll get there.”

“Stop saying ‘boy toy,’” I snapped. “Oh my God, I think I’m actually happy for you . . .”

This was what I’d come here for. Not the exposure, not the accountability. This. Him doing something that football was supposed to lead to.

He laughed again. “Yeah, well, I’m still a fuckup, so don’t be too happy.”

“You’re not, Mase.” I looked out over the quad to where the Den stood, overshadowing everything. “They did this to you.”

“I could have fought harder.” He’d never said that before. “I think I took the breaking of my leg as the sign my career was over, long before I acknowledged their part in it.”

That was probably true. “Wow. This is a day of . . . new things.”

“You cannot hook up with your new thing. Or, if you are, then you need to get out of there. In fact, I will fully support you boning Noah if it means you quit.”

“There is so much wrong with that sentence.” I dropped my head into my chin as I people-watched the few students who were walking about.

“Speaking of boning. I have a missed call from Diana. Why?”

“We really weren’t speaking of boning,” I corrected him firmly. “Um . . . Ugh, this is so awkward. She’s dumping you.”

He snorted. “Don’t I have to be in a relationship to get dumped?”

“I think she recalled the fuck-buddy card.”

“Cool.”

I blinked. “Cool?”

I could almost hear him shrugging. “Casual sex is casual sex, Bri. I can get it anywhere.”

“And I’m done. We — me and you — will never talk about sex again. Ever. This is a sibling rule that I am sure is in place worldwide. No mention of it ever again. Okay.”