“Is it County?”
“Or maybe Kennesaw,” someone else says.
“Show yourselves.” That’s Trevon’s voice. At least he’ll show us some mercy.
I blow out a harsh breath, then army-crawl backward until I can stand, and the guys follow me out. By the time we walk to the end of the bleachers, the entire team is standing there ready to kick our butts.
“Madison? What in the Sam Hill are you doing under there?” Coach B. bellows.
The three of us walk with our heads bowed.
“For fuck’s sake,” Coach mutters.
All three of us snap our heads up to find Sage brimming with glee from ear to freaking ear.
“Coach, you know Madi. These are my uncles I was telling you about.”
Coach narrows his gaze. First at Braxton, then at Grey. I’m shocked when Coach B. takes a step away from Grey because I’ve never seen that man back down from anything.
“Did you know this boy can kick a forty-yard field goal and make it nine times out of ten?”
“Professional players average at the thirty-five,” Grey snaps. He really needs to work on his tone.
“I know. And he’s here kicking forty-yarders in tennis shoes while my O-line can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”
“Let him walk on,” someone in the back yells.
Grey and Braxton look at each other in shock.
“Excuse me?” Grey doesn’t raise his voice, but he commands these players—maybe better than Coach B.
“He’s already enrolled in community college, right? He hasn’t officially dropped?” In all my years living in Happiness, I’ve never seen Coach B. rattled. But he is now.
“What’s your point?” Poor Grey. His jaw is going to crack if he doesn’t loosen up.
Braxton shifts so he stands between me and Grey, probably in case he has to hold back the angry bear.
“We have co-ops here at the university with a lot of community colleges. And it’s football in the South—the school will make it happen.”
“I’m sorry,” Braxton says, holding up a hand. “What are you saying?”
“I want Sage enrolled at Happiness University, and I want him on my team.”
I’ve been in this stadium hundreds of times, and never, not once, has silence been this loud.
25
BRAXTON
“Doyou want to talk about it?” I ask, entering the room that Grey’s using as an office.
“Nothing to talk about.” He keeps his gaze firmly on the screen in front of him.
“Don’t do that, Grey. We’ve been a team for over twenty years—that doesn’t stop now.”
Shutting the door behind me, I cross the room and sit in the small chair set up in front of his desk as though he’d actually have meetings in here. But I know two things to be true about Greyson—he’s as loyal as they come, and he loves his routine.
“Did we fuck him up?” he blurts without looking at me.
