"Well, I do."
I move over to his side of the booth and pull him into a hug. He sags against me, and, man, what a fucking day it's been. There's still a lot to unpack, but for now, I don't want to dealwith his evil, toxic family anymore. I just want to make him feel better.
And I think I know how to do just that.
I noticed the way he reacted to Cory's offer. Yes, he was just as surprised by it as I was, but he also got a glint in his eye, the same glint he used to get when a defensive lineman got washed out of position, opening a crease big enough to hit.
He wants to do this. He wants us to buy the team together. I'm coming around to the idea myself, too. I'd give the world to have Rein back in my life again in some,any, capacity, and if that means buying a minor league football team together, then I am all fucking in.
Once we sort through all this family drama bullshit.
11
Rein
The next few weeks are a fever dream and a hellish nightmare all rolled into one.
First, the fever dream.
We called Cory from the diner in Clovelly and told him we'd both be in his office signing the contract first thing the following day. And that's exactly what we did. With our signatures on the dotted line, he looked at us, smiled, and said, "Glad my plan worked."
We asked what plan he was referring to, both of us initially triggered at getting played again. We needn't have worried. Cory, for all his eccentricities, has a good heart. He told us he hated what happened to our friendship. Said the circumstances—feuding families—reminded him of a friend he lost in his younger years when—wait for it—being out wasn't an option.
Beau and I may have gone into that meeting to buy a football team, but we came out of it making a new friend.
As well as rekindling an old friendship.
We left Cory's office that morning elated, riding a natural high I haven't felt since my playing days. Being the mature and fully grown men we are, we naturally waited until we got to the parking lot to jump around and cheer like crazy, like we'd just won the freaking lottery.
For me, it was better than winning millions of dollars; I got my best friend back. And that is shitting priceless.
Even when the reality of what we'd done sank in and we started putting together the to-do list to end all to-do lists, I wasn't scared or overwhelmed. Yes, we haveso many thingsto do—from securing league paperwork and a bunch of boring legal stuff; to hiring coaches, scouting players, and setting up the team infrastructure; to, last but not least, finding a stadium andall the million other logistical things associated with that—but the amazing, beautiful thing is…I don't have to do it alone!
I have my best friend right where I've always wanted him—right by my side. And together, I know Beau and I will be un-fucking-stoppable. The minor league won't know what hit 'em. Grizzlies for the win!
Okay. That's all the good, messy, fun stuff out of the way.
Now onto the shitstorm.
Mom and Dad.
I flew down to Florida to speak with them face-to-face once they got back from their yachting trip. It wasn't pretty. I found out Mom hatched the plan, and Dad executed it. What blew me away the most was how little remorse they showed for what they did, that their blinding rage at the Katonas and their stubborn refusal and inability to forgive, forget, and move on would make them do something so horrendous to two innocent people who have nothing to do with this whole shitting saga other than being born into the families Beau and I were born into.
They didn't seem to care about the pain they've caused, sticking to their position and insisting that my life is better without Beau Katona in it. They're dead wrong about that, and with their refusal to apologize or even acknowledge they've done something wrong, I've put up a strict, no-contact boundary with them.
Sabrina didn't escape unscathed, either. I get where she's coming from, being stuck between our parents and me. But when someone does something wrong, I don't care who it is, it has to be called out. By not doing that, she picked a side. The wrong side.
To her credit, sheisshowing remorse and has said sorry multiple times for not telling me earlier. She's even reached out to Beau and apologized to him as well. I'm not going to cut herout of my life, but it's going to take more than a few sorrys for me to truly get over this.
I love her, and she's taking the right steps to fix this—which, let's face it, is a rare thing these days—so I'm going to work on healing my hurt and rebuilding my trust in her so I can have a relationship with at least one member of my immediate family.
"I'm so happy to see you two boys back together," Granny says, smiling warmly at Beau and me perched opposite her in her sitting room.
"It's good to be back together," Beau tells her, placing his hand on my knee.
I shift at the contact. Not because I don't like it. The opposite, in fact. I like it way too much.
Beau said he never pursued anything romantic between us because he didn't want it to mess up our friendship, which puts me in a quandary. I've been doinga lotof thinking these past few weeks, and I've come to realize something about myself in relation to my feelings for Beau. I don't just want him back in my life as a friend. I want something more.
