1. Chapter 1 #2
“Grant,” she whispers, and I notice all the noise from her end has vanished. She switched me off speakerphone. “Are you okay?”
I hesitate before running my fingers through my hair as I exhale slowly. “Yeah. Just…a long day.”
Ending the call, I switch off the ignition and climb out.
I should’ve grabbed wings tonight.
The drive to the townhouse complex was a blur. I barely remember getting back in my truck and leaving the parking lot. I drive on autopilot, the giant bags of takeout lining the passenger side floor, filling the cab with an array of smells. I barely notice the stoplights or familiar turns.
All I can see is her.
Her chin lifted high with her usual spark of determination. The slight changes in her appearance allowing room for the growing life inside her. But it’s the exhaustion in her expression that’s the most jarring. I can’t get that look out of my mind, and I can’t ignore what I discovered tonight.
Savannah is pregnant and living alone above a sketchy Chinese restaurant.
Stop it, Grant. It’s not your problem.
I grip the steering wheel tightly as I navigate through the complex, turning onto the final stretch.
I could drive this route with my eyes closed, which I’m thankful for, with how distracted I am.
I’ve made this drive countless times—to my sister’s place and my place, which was once the heart of our friend group.
Back then, the townhouse was more than a two-story structure. It was the center of everything. Sunday dinners with our found family. The house where we watched the university’s baseball games, celebrated wins, nursed heartbreaks, and hosted late-night gatherings that stretched into the early hours.
The shake-up in our group started with the first move-out—Quinton Boyd, my best friend and last year’s number one NFL draft pick.
Leaving college was the best decision he ever made.
He and Brynn Wilder pulled off a surprise elopement in Kansas City during the draft, which shocked no one.
They’ve never done anything the conventional way.
Long-distance lasted all of two-point-five seconds before Brynn found out she was pregnant.
She graduated a semester early and left last winter to start her life with Q in Colorado.
The timing turned out to be perfect—Cleo decided to arrive in early January.
Now the three of them are figuring out their new normal, nine-hundred miles away.
Navigating down the aisle, I find a vacant spot near Bret’s townhouse.
With summer break in full swing, most of the students who live here have gone home or headed off on vacation, leaving the place emptier than usual.
By late August, finding a free spot will be impossible.
Thankfully, the complex issues parking passes and assigns spots for residents.
With the truck in park, I sit in silence for a moment.
Staring at the black front door with a crazy wreath attached to it, my mind drifts back to graduation.
This spring, most of our group walked across the big stage, diplomas in hand, closing the chapter on our four years together.
We knew it was coming—college doesn’t last forever—but that didn’t make it any easier.
Caps flew, hugs lingered, and reality sank in: our CTU Eagles family was scattering, each of us taking flight in different directions.
Chloe Mariano, Brynn’s roommate, gave up her lease to move in with her boyfriend, Cody Jacobs—at least until the MLB draft decides where he’ll be playing. My sister took over her spot, keeping the tradition alive. Graduation had upended her living situation, too.
Last year, Bret transferred from Arizona to Central Texas University and, thanks to a housing mix-up, ended up as the fourth roommate to three of my teammates: Tyler Harris, Jeremiah Prince—JP to us—and Crew Riggsby.
To say I was shocked is an understatement.
With JP graduating this spring, one of their rooms opened up, leaving Bret, Crew, and Harris debating between finding a new roommate or downsizing.
Chloe and Brynn’s vacant townhouse, with its three bedrooms, solved their problem perfectly.
Speaking of JP, he was—and still is—a core part of our group. This spring, Buffalo drafted him to play football, another friend lost to a cross-country move. Until his season starts, he’s back home, spending the summer helping his mom and siblings.
Another one of us gone, another piece of our makeshift family scattered.
Now it’s just me.
I stayed behind and took the coaching job under my dad, the one he groomed me for last season. The new routine fell into place easily while everyone moved on. Some days, it’s fine. Other days, it feels like I’m standing still while the world keeps spinning.
Motion behind the living room window draws my attention, but by the time I glance up, no one’s there, only the fluttering of curtains.
In seconds, the front door opens. Bret steps into the humid Texas air, her hands landing on her hips as she stares back at me, eyebrows furrowed with concern.
Our roles have reversed in the last year.
It wasn’t too long ago when I was the hovering, overprotective brother concerned about my sister’s well-being. Now, she’s the one hovering over me.
It made sense for me. She was hiding something—I could feel it—and her sudden move only made me more certain.
And unfortunately, I was right. With her move and a deep, dark confession, there was a big reason for me to be concerned.
Since her adjustment to CTU, her personality has shifted drastically—in the best possible way.
As hard as it is to admit, Crew has been a big part of that.
Shaking my head and clearing my thoughts, I internally slap myself for my whiny mood tonight. If my friends knew where my brain was at, they’d no doubt revoke my “man card.” But who ever said men can’t have moments of sensitivity?
Climbing out of my truck, Bret’s voice breaks the silent night.
“G, need any help?”
Grunting out a no, I round the front of the truck to the passenger side. With the bags of food retrieved, I walk to the sidewalk to where Bret’s waiting.
“Hey,” I grumble in greeting, waiting for her to move out of the way. When she doesn’t, I glance up. “Something wrong?”
Deep down, I know why she’s looking at me; her expression is telling. Bret has the type of face that says exactly what she’s thinking. I’m in no mood to deal with my little sister’s interrogation, though.
Bret lifts her hands from her hips, crossing them over her chest. With a tilted head and eyes narrowed, her gaze flicks over me like the answers are written on my face. Lucky for me, I don’t have the same curse as she does. My thoughts stay buried beneath a broody exterior.
“You tell me,” she says, quirking an eyebrow.
With a huff, I shift the bags in my hand as if they’re heavy. “Can you move? My hands are full.”
“You look weird,” she comments instead of moving.
I roll my eyes, my face scrunching. “Thanks?”
“You do.” She pauses. “Almost like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I did see a ghost. I saw my future living without me, and it scared the fuck out of me. Everything I wanted to happen after graduation is happening…without me.
Seriously, someone take my man card already.
I deflect, not wanting to touch this topic with a ten-foot pole. My eyes flick down to her outfit—if you can even call it that. Skin-tight shorts and a sports bra, her midriff bare, her expression completely unbothered.
“Do you ever wear clothes?” I grumble.
Her eyebrows shoot up, annoyance flaring. “It’s July in Texas. It’s too fucking hot. And stop objectifying me.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “I’m not trying to… Never mind.”
She groans, throwing her hands in exasperation. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet you still invite me over.”
She glares for another moment before finally stepping aside, something huffed under her breath. Something sounding a lot like, if I don’t, then who will put up with your grumpy ass? I take the opportunity and slip past her, stepping inside where the AC blasts my skin.
The living room looks like how I remember it, with a few new touches.
Instead of the girly art prints on the wall, a large canvas hangs in their place.
It’s a drawing of an eagle in flight, one Crew drew.
His secret talent has now been exposed since my sister insists on showcasing his sketches.
She’s even started a social media page for him.
Tyler claims one end of the couch, while Crew lounges in the oversized chair, waiting for my sister to join him.
The two are in a heated debate over the hypothetical position of the MLB draft in a couple of weeks.
They both have their opinions about where two of our friends will end up.
A sports show plays on the TV, fueling their argument.
Stepping closer to the coffee table, I place the bags down, giving them a nod in greeting as I sit on the opposite side of the couch.
As my sister takes her place next to Crew, she eyes me carefully, still too observant for her own good.
I know she’s waiting for me to crack. Joke's on her, I’m indestructible.
Ignoring everyone, I dive into my food as Tyler selects a comedy movie, which happens to be about a guy winning his girl back after a workplace injury.
No matter how hard I try to focus on the movie, my mind drifts.
My thoughts are still stuck on her . And our last time together…