1. Dane
Chapter 1
Dane
Why the fuck did I agree to this?
The answer to that question was simple. Supposedly, my father wanted me to. But I knew my mother was really to blame. She saw the opportunity to fix things when my carrier returned from our six-month deployment by insisting I use her ticket.
The tickets Lennox sent to them.
As I stood and watched my father revel in every moment of the Super Bowl experience, I couldn’t help but remember how Mom manipulated me into this. She had a weak spot for my former best friend. Me, not so much.
“It would mean the world to your father if you go with him,” she said.
I scrubbed my hand over my face, wanting to say that he’d forfeited that opportunity years ago.
“I know, but we can do something else together. Maybe I can take him fishing.”
Her weighted sigh was when she called bullshit, then slather on a thick layer of guilt. She knew exactly why I wanted nothing to do with football. Why I’d stopped watching it. And why I didn’t want to be there.
“Dane, I know your father wasn’t always available when you were growing up, but we’re not getting any younger. This is a chance to make memories, especially since he never played in a Super Bowl. You’ll understand one day.”
I almost laughed, but let it go. They were in their late 50s, not on death’s doorstep.
When I didn’t reply immediately, she knew she had me on the ropes and went in for the kill.
“We love you so much, sweetheart. When things go awry in the world and you’re off defending freedom, we worry.”
She paused one more time before she told me what she thought. And this time, she was talking about Lennox.
“Life is too short to live with so much anger, and we don’t want you to have any regrets. This is a chance to make things right, and I know you miss him.”
A mom’s guilt was real. But I don’t miss Lennox. I only knew how to hate him now. He’d changed my life in ways I could never get back. All I knew was it still hurt as much as it did back then. And I didn’t intend to ever re-open that door to him, no matter what.
But I could go with my father and still avoid Lennox.
“Fine,” I relented like a sullen teenager. “I’ll go on one condition.”
“And what’s that, sweetheart?” She knew she’d won. I could hear it in her tone.
“Under no circumstances is Lennox to know I’ll be there.”
“I’ll do my best,” she’d said before hanging up.
I knew what that meant. She loved the asshole, just like he was her child. And he was going to know I was there.
Even though I’d caved to my mother, I had no intention of ever speaking to Lennox again. Yet there I was, stewing in my anger years later. It was irrational, and I knew it.
Shaking off the painful memories, I scanned the cheering crowds in the packed stadium. I had to be the only football fan in history who wanted to ditch the biggest sporting event of the year. The three million dollar luxury suite Lennox had purchased meant very little to me. All of this was for my father, the man who had stepped up and took him under his wing. The man who paid more attention to him than his own son. Lennox was my father’s football protégé, while I simply flew an F/A-18 for a living.
Every time the Storm went on offense, I glared down at the field as Lennox took control of the game. He had perfected a weird cadence over the years that easily drew the defense offsides. I could admit he was good, but I still loathed him. Being there was another example of the many ruined plans we’d made when we were kids.
While this was a huge accomplishment for my father, it only stirred anger in my gut. I would have rather been anywhere else in the world than here. I’d take an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean during a cyclone over this.
But not my father.
“I’m so proud of him! Look how easily he reads that defense. That could have been you down there.”
I clenched my jaw and glanced over at my father, but kept my mouth shut until I couldn’t. Did he honestly wish I’d chosen football over a master’s degree in Aerospace Engineering?
“Is that what you’d prefer for me? Chasing a ball over what I do?”
His scowl deepened the wrinkles in his forehead. “No. Of course, not. Don’t be so sensitive.”
He side-eyed me with his familiar disappointed look when my attitude didn’t meet his expectation s . I’d seen it often after I broke it to him I didn’t want to play. He couldn’t understand why I’d chosen to put my life in danger over a life of luxury and football. And by the sound of things, he never would.
The roar of the crowd drew my attention back to the field. Glancing up at the Jumbo Tron, I caught the replay of Lennox finding #82 for a touchdown.
According to every sports channel and publication that covered football, the receiver was Evan Ellis, a tight end, and his best friend. Their chemistry had been well-documented through every aspect of sports media and was credited for their team’s success. Much like we’d been when we were playing together in high school.
Was it possible to both hate and miss someone at the same time?
My phone vibrated in my pocket, giving me a much-needed reprieve from my thoughts.
Pulling it from my pocket, I glanced down to see my co-pilot’s name.
Cruz: You made it on TV, bro.
Fuck.
Me: What are you talking about?
Cruz: The camera panned to you and your dad in the box.
Me: Okay. Thanks for the warning.
Cruz: The guys went nuts.
Cruz: But you don’t look so good, Sunshine.
Me: I’m fine. Thanks for the heads up.
I shoved it back in my pocket and looked up at the remaining time. Two minutes in the fourth quarter until Lennox accomplished what he’d been talking about since we were ten years old. They were going to win, and there was no fucking way I would go down on the field to congratulate him.
Leaning over to my father, I broke the news to him.
“Sorry, Dad. But they need me on a call to the base. I’ve got to go back to the hotel.”
He looked into my eyes, searching for something. “You just got back? I thought you were on leave. We’ve got field passes.”
I was. But he didn’t need to know the real reason.
“I am. But Command may need to send us out again. And duty calls. You go down and see him. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
“But we were going to get dinner with...”
Lennox.
My jaw tightened before he put his hand on my shoulder. They’d left out that little detail during all this scheming.
“Sorry. I can’t make it.”
He studied me one more time before giving in. I wasn’t going to dinner with Lennox, and he knew it. “Okay, son. I’ll tell him you had something come up.”
I released a heavy breath. “He wasn’t supposed to know I was here.”
He conceded the ruse and shrugged. “I know. But you’re mother thought...”
I knew they meant well. My mother wanted us to fix whatever tore us apart. But it wasn’t going to happen. And even though I was back in Coronado, repairing our friendship was the last thing I’d ever want to do. There were some things you couldn’t come back from.
“I’ll grab something on the way. Enjoy your moment with Lennox.”
My father smiled, then turned his attention back to the game just as the Storms defense recovered the ball, putting it back in Lennox’s hands. Figures.
I took a long last look at his happy face and headed out of the suite. I’d leave him to enjoy the spotlight.
I left the suite and made my way to the elevator. The luxury suites were emptying as excited Storm family and friends made their way down to the field. When the lobby area filled, I opted for the stairs.
Right before I exited the stadium, the roar of the crowd and the boom of the announcers declaring the Storm as the Super Bowl Champions put a knot in my gut.
I looked up at the display set up in the concessions area as the blue and white confetti rained down on the field. The cameras found the coach, who had been soaked in Gatorade, walking across the field to shake hands with the other coach.
The cameras cut to the celebrating players before they eventually found Lennox, his signature curly brown hair damp as he ran his fingers through it. He needed a fucking haircut.
I stood with my arms crossed over my chest and watched the post-game coverage as Lennox reached an important goal in his life. As the field filled with people, I spotted my father being ushered through the crowd, stopping to shake hands, before finally reaching Lennox.
He grabbed my father in a hug, and then looked around. My father patted him on the chest and shook his head no. Lennox appeared momentarily disappointed, but his smile quickly returned.
The coverage continued as disappointed fans left the stadium. Like a glutton for punishment, I continued to watch the coverage as Lennox accepted the MVP award and spoke about the team’s accomplishments.
“This was a team effort. Every one of us has had the love and support of the people in our lives. The people who challenged us and stood in our corner no matter what. The friends we shared our dreams with. Those are the people we do this for. And for the best fans in the league!”
Fuck you, Lennox, for ruining this for us.
My gut churned as the camera cut to my former NFL star father. That moment was a dream come true for him, too. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever looked that proud of me.
When I’d seen enough, I turned and headed out the door.