CHAPTER 20
BRADY
Saturdays after a game I should sleep in. However, sleep didn’t come easily last night, and the smell of bacon woke me up earlier than I’d have liked. I reached for my phone and checked to see if Riley ever responded to my last text. She didn’t.
Jerking on a pair of sweats, I headed downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. My mom was piling up a stack of pancakes with her pink-and-white apron tied around her waist. I had bought it for her five years ago for Mother’s Day with money I’d made mowing grass. She wore it all the time.
“Morning,” I said as I headed over to the fridge to get the milk.
“You’re up early. I expected you to sleep until noon,” she teased.
I hadn’t slept until noon, well . . . ever. She knew better. “I smelled the bacon,” I told her. “A man can’t sleep when there is bacon.”
That got a laugh from her.
Mom had always been that mom. The one who made our lunches and cooked us breakfast. The mom who made cookies and let me have a den full of guys over. She believed in me and was proud of me. In return I wanted to continue to make her proud. I had been given a mom most guys weren’t lucky enough to have. At least not in my group of friends. I was lucky that way. Not a lot of moms were as perfect as mine. For example, Gunner’s mom. I wasn’t even sure she deserved that title. She hadn’t done much for him in life.
“You sore from last night?” Mom asked as she placed a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table for me.
I had a few sensitive spots but nothing worth mentioning. Those were from some ringers in the first half that I deserved. My head hadn’t been where it needed to be. “I’m good,” I assured her.
She smiled at me, then went back to the pancakes. “I saw the hits you took in the second quarter. You’re bound to have a few bad spots.”
I shrugged and reached for the syrup to coat my pancakes in. “Dad still in bed?” I asked, changing the subject.
“No, you know your dad. He got up early and headed to the office. Said he needed to get caught up on things, and he’d see us at dinner. I’m sure he’ll be ready to talk football by then.”
My dad always had to be doing something. He worked a lot, and being idle wasn’t even in his vocabulary. He was funny like that.
I started to make a joke about it when my phone screen lit up. I grabbed it and saw Riley’s name. I glanced back to make sure Mom wasn’t looking my way before opening the text. Not that she would disapprove. I knew she liked Riley. Mom was the least judgmental person I knew. But I didn’t want my parents to know yet. Not about my friendship with Riley. I was still holding that close. Just for me.
Sure, if you need someone to ride with you to Birmingham today, I will. Mom said she could watch Bryony. Why are we going?
I had just thrown that out there. A two-hour drive to Birmingham had been the only thing I could think of. It was far enough away from Lawton that we could safely enjoy ourselves without running into someone we knew. I hadn’t thought of a reason why I needed to go. I’d just said I did. Now I needed something. Any excuse so she didn’t know I was simply going there so we could hang out. Alone.
And why was I doing that?
She needed a friend, and I wanted to be her friend, but there was more to it than all that. Last night, when I was distracted, I wanted to believe it was because I was worried about her or something that innocent. But the truth was, I liked her.
I liked Riley Young. She was interesting. She was strong, She was a good person, and I respected her for all of that. I wanted to be around her. Away from the same group of people I was always around. Maybe that was why I had liked Willa. She was different. Not the same crowd doing the same things.
I liked her even though my being her friend was going to cause a stir eventually. The confrontation with Gunner was the one I dreaded the most. But honestly, it was time he faced the fact that his brother had lied. After all they had been through lately, I didn’t think it was going to be too big of a stretch for him to believe Riley’s story now. We weren’t kids who let others tell us what to think anymore.
I finally replied. I have some birthday money still in my savings account, and I wanted a pair of boots that are sold out here. Birmingham has better options.
I doubted that sounded believable since Nashville was only an hour away. But I went with it anyway.
“It smells wonderful in this house,” Maggie said, walking into the kitchen. Her hair was still messy from sleep, and she was wearing a pair of pajama pants and one of West’s shirts. He had made sure she had several of them. It was his way of being with her all the time. I used to make fun of that, but now I thought it made sense. Not that I’d tell him that. I liked the idea of Riley wearing my shirt. Which also meant my feelings for her were changing into something more than friendship.
“Have a seat and I’ll get you a plate,” Mom told her.
Maggie ignored that and walked over to pick up her own plate. “You’re still cooking. I can fix my own plate. Thank you, though.”
Mom smiled as if Maggie were the perfect daughter she never had. They were good for each other. Mom was the kind of mom who needed a daughter, and Maggie had lost her mother tragically. They weren’t as close as a mother and daughter could get, but I expected over time they would fill that hole in each other’s lives.
Maggie sat down across from me and yawned. Just a couple months ago this would have been a very silent table. It was nice that Maggie actually spoke now. “Fun game last night, huh?”
Her comment sounded innocent, but I knew what she meant. She was the only person who had an idea of where my head had been that first half. I looked up at her as I put a bite of pancake in my mouth. I wasn’t amused. But the smirk on her face said she was.
“It about gave me a heart attack,” Mom said with a chuckle. “Lord, I’ve never been so nervous over a game in all my life.”
“The games are going to just get harder. Winning the championship isn’t meant to be easy.” I realized I sounded annoyed and wished I hadn’t said that.
Maggie raised one eyebrow as if to say she knew better. Why couldn’t she just have stayed upstairs in bed? I was having a perfectly peaceful breakfast until she came in and brought this all up.
“Oh, I know. I realized last night I needed to calm down and prepare for this to just get worse.” Mom’s voice was still gentle and understanding.
“I’m sure it’s hard to keep your focus with all that pressure,” Maggie added, then grinned before eating a piece of bacon.
I was either going to stop eating and leave the table with an excuse or change the subject. But I wasn’t full and I wanted more pancakes, so I went with the subject change. “Want me to take Dad some breakfast before I head to Birmingham?” I asked.
Maggie snickered. I was about to throw my last pancake at her amused face.