Elle stands behind Nola, the murderous rage in her eyes is something I’ve never seen before. Not only did Nola mess with our brother, but she’s screwing around with one of Elle’s musicians, and that group is so important to my sister.
Nola steps back as Elle stalks toward her until she’s pinned against the wall. I should intervene, but I don’t.
“I’m only going to tell you once, get the hell out of here. Don’t you ever call my brother again and don’t even think about showing up here. You’ve done so much damage, you have no idea. You have no clue what you’ve done, bringing that wretched woman into his life. I want you gone. I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again. And for the love of all things holy, you better hope you’re not pregnant because I’ll make damn sure my brother takes that baby from you. You’re not any better than the whore that gave him up. Now get out!”
My eyes drop open as Elle unleashes. She said everything I was thinking but would’ve never been able to put into words. Nola cries out and rushes down the stairs. Elle stands here, waiting until she can no longer see her. When she turns to face me, the angry sister is gone, and tears are now in her eyes.
We fall into each other’s arms and cry. We’ve always known Alicia would come back again, but as the years went by, we expected it less. When Quinn turned eighteen, we walked around on eggshells for a year, waiting for word that she reached out to him. When he moved to California, I thought my mom was going to have a heart attack. She spent more time traveling back and forth between here and Beaumont. It felt like she lived on the airplane.
And it hurt Elle and me. Our mom was so focused on Quinn, she missed things, but we understood. Growing up, he questioned everything. Mostly, why his mother couldn’t love him the same way our mom loved him.
Elle and I are still standing in the doorway when Noah and Ben come rushing up the stairs. We break and go to our respective men, and both sob. The guys manage to get us back into the apartment, where the only thing we can do is wait. I text Quinn to let him know that he left just in time. I don’t want to know or even think about what a confrontation between the two of them would be like right now.
We’re anxious. The four of us. Ben had food delivered and Noah makes sure our phones stay charged in case someone tries to call. Elle paces while I stand and look out of the window, waiting for Quinn to come home.
“That bitch is going to fuck up my band,” Elle seethes. Ben is by her side before I can respond. Quinn’s stronger than the drama that surrounds him, at least I hope he is.
“We’ll make sure Quinn has the support he needs,” Noah says. I smile softly at him, silently thanking him. My brother is going to be Noah’s best man, there isn’t anything Noah won’t do for his best friend.
“It’s going to take Quinn a long time to recover from this. To trust anyone.”
“Noah and I will take him out, get him shitty ass drunk and find him a one-night stand to help him get over this.” Elle goes over to Ben and slaps him across his chest. “Ouch,” he says.
“There will be more of that if you turn my brother into a man-whore. He needs friends and family. He needs to know that not all women are evil. He needs the band and music. It’s his passion, it’s what he loves.” My sister runs her hand through her hair and sighs.
She’s right, but our brother loves Nola, and the pain she’s caused, coupled with Alicia making her presence known isn’t going to go away anytime soon.
16
Noah
It’s opening day and I’m standing in the middle of the field, watching as fans walk toward their seats with hotdogs, nachos, candy, beer, and of course their favorite noise maker. The thing that always gets me is the foam finger. I never know if the fan is telling me I’m number one or if they’re flipping me off. Last year, it was probably a little bit of both. But this year, the season is going to be different. Not only am I putting in every effort I can muster, but the team wants to win. No more subpar seasons for us. We want to make the playoffs, be a team that challenges every opponent. We want teams to have to earn their victory, and not come into our stadium thinking the game is a wash.
A few of my teammates are out on the field. Julius is running the snake as his warm-up. Right now, he’s doing high knees, and almost kicking himself in the face. He asked if I wanted to do it with him. I thought he was joking at first, but his expression turned to stone when I laughed and had to politely decline.
At the fifty-yard line section of the stadium, behind the team bench, I have half of t
he section reserved. I think every member of my family will be in attendance today. The last time this happened, I was a rookie. I wish I could say I’m the reason they’re here, but it’s not. It’s Peyton. She’s on the sideline, with her headset on and thumbing through a notebook. I’ve seen what’s in there, copiously detailed notes about every Pioneer player. Even the third string guys.
The best part about today – we’re playing the Rams. I have a strong desire to annihilate this team, not only for me but for Peyton as well – my girl spent hours studying game film on them and has shown us their weaknesses.
Actually, the best part about football right now is that the guys have really taken to Peyton. They listen to her, ask her questions when things aren’t going their way, and respect her knowledge of the game. A few of the guys have told me that I better “wife her up” before they put the moves on her. I guess having a wedding date isn’t good enough for them. I was never worried about the team accepting her. What scared me was whether or not she’d allow herself to fit in and express herself. She’s never had a problem telling me where my game is weak, but telling others is a different story.
After training camp started, Peyton and I made a rule – don’t bring work home. At the stadium or practice facility, she’s a part of the coaching staff. At home, I’m the boss. Not really, but it’s fun to say sometimes. We are equals. We’re two people madly in love with each other, who are trying to plan a wedding while working crazy hours.
I finally get why she was so hesitant to set a date – the planning. Over the summer, everything was easier because we had the time. Once football started, time became almost non-existent. Her days are much longer than mine. She’s spent hours watching game film, creating player profiles to her liking, and meeting with players and coaching staff. On top of this, she has to attend meetings, which she tells me is totally not her thing.
I’ve tried to help where I can. By help, I mean I called both moms and asked them to do the unthinkable and plan the rest of the wedding. I spent days photocopying the winter section of her wedding bible to send to our mothers. I’ve also made the guest list, inviting everyone we know. As for the wedding party, we decided to keep things small, which is surprising since Peyton was part of a sorority. I thought for sure we were going to have eight to ten people standing next to us, but she only wants our sisters. Telling Alex that he wasn’t going to be in the wedding was a bit daunting. He’s a big dude and could easily crush me if he wanted. Thankfully, he was cool and said he doesn’t really look good in brown and would be there happily if an invitation found its way into his mailbox. Honestly, we’re not expecting many people to come. Our families will be there for sure, but being as the wedding is Christmas night, we don’t want to take people away from their families.
Two security guards are now standing on each side of the section I reserved. In the past, there would be one with a second lingering. However, Quinn will be here today and with Sinful Distraction’s first album reaching number one on the charts, he’s developed a fan base, and at one of our preseason games in California, it was a nightmare for him. Not to mention Nola. She’s received a few death threats, which has Quinn on edge. He’s so laid back that when he saw them on social media, he had a massive panic attack and wanted to hire round the clock security for her. It took my mom, his mom and Jenna to explain that sadly, this is normal and until someone physically sends Nola something or accosts her on the streets, they should ignore what they read. Still, I’d probably do the same thing as Quinn if I were in his shoes.
After Quinn flew to South Carolina to win back Eleanora, they’ve been stronger than ever. They’re cute, according to Peyton, and she really likes having Nola around. Quinn and Nola are living together. It took a lot of prodding on everyone’s part, but he finally dug into his trust fund and bought a house. Of course, it’s on the beach, which shouldn’t surprise anyone, and is close to Elle and Ben’s house. Elle and Nola are cordial. Peyton is a bit more accepting of Nola. But I think in due time, everyone will put aside the small hiccup and things will be fine. I like Nola a lot. She makes my best friend happy and has brought him out of his shell a little bit. And I like her parents and brother Rhett, who will be at the game today as well.
I’m proud of Elle and everything’s she accomplished with Sinful Distraction. She had this vision, and the drive to make sure the group succeeded. They’re going to go on tour with 4225 West after the wedding. My dad, Harrison, and JD are very excited to be their opening act, which is unheard of. But they’re family, and there isn’t anything the band wouldn’t do to help others out.
Peyton looks out toward the field, almost as if she knows I’m thinking about her. I want nothing more than to go over to her right now and kiss her, but not while we’re at work. That’s another rule. It’s not one I want to follow but know I have to. My fantasy of having sex with her in the locker room can only play out in my mind. I get it, but it doesn’t mean I like it. If players see us together, it can create a disconnect between her and the others. Here, we’re player and coach. We try not to interact unless she’s pointing something out or has a question for me.
Glancing back toward the stands, my dad, mom, grandparents, and sister are making their way down to their seats. I start to head over so I can talk to them when I notice my grandma Bianca. She’s dressed head to toe in Pioneer gear, but that’s not what catches my eye. It’s the fact that her face is painted purple. She is, without a doubt, my biggest fan. I know she’s making up for lost time, and I appreciate it, but she doesn’t have to go to extremes like this. I’m sure the paint is uncomfortable.