34. Chapter 34
W e’re in the remaining half hour of practice. It’s the day before we leave for a game, which means final walk-throughs and last-minute adjustments to our game plan. I’m off to the side, discussing a change in a route, when whispers start filling the sidelines.
“Dude, did you see who it is?”
“Holy shit!”
“Is that Quinton Boyd?”
I glance up from the iPad and spot him. A smug smile is pasted on his face as he strides in with all the confidence in the world.
The underclassmen stare at him like he’s their hero, but he’s Q to me.
My best friend who shared my dorm room with me freshman year.
The guy who would throw the biggest ragers on campus.
“Well, look who it is!” Dad shouts from the sideline.
“Sup, Coach,” Q greets with a nod. “Thought I’d check in to see if you still knew what you were doing.”
Laughter ripples through the team as Dad chuckles, shaking his head. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Nah.” Q holds his hand up in surrender. “Just came here to watch.”
Jogging over, he nods in my direction as we dab fists. “Hey, man! Could’ve warned me you were stopping by.”
“What’s the fun in that?” We both turn and watch the team try to return to normal. Even some of the coaches are glancing in his direction. We’ve all got stars in our eyes when Q’s in the room.
It’s not long before the door is banging open again. Heads whip at the sound, nobody expecting any visitors, and I burst out laughing.
Cody Jacobs strides in like he owns the fucking place. Arms outstretched to the sides as a megawatt smile takes over his face. “Hope you don’t mind I crashed the party, too.”
Q groans beside me. He loves to act like he hates Jacobs, but we all know they’ve got a secret brotherhood.
“Jesus Christ,” Dad shouts. “Jacobs, you didn’t even play football.”
“Aw, c’mon, Coach C. Didn’t you miss me?”
“No,” Dad says without hesitation. “Grant, call it a day and take these shitheads out of here so my team can focus.”
I pretend to protest, but he sees right through my bullshit. Giving him a salute, we push each other through the door.
“Why do I feel like I just sprung you from jail?” Cody asks.
I shrug. “Because you kind of did.”
Cody flashes a cocky smirk, but it’s Q who speaks first. “Who’s up for some golf?”
Brow pinched, I stare at him. “Since when do you golf?”
“Since the off-season. Turns out, that’s what all the pros do once their season ends.”
I snort a laugh as we stop at my office.
Cody whistles. “Nice digs, Campbell.”
“Don’t get your grimy fingers on anything.”
He clutches his chest. “I’m offended.”
“You’re full of shit.”
With my keys in hand, we leave the facility and climb into my truck. I’m not even mad Dad kicked me out of practice. Seeing their faces, I didn’t realize how much I needed a guys’ day. And with these two clowns inside, there’s no way anyone would put in the work we need to get a win this weekend.
Q pulled some strings and got us in at the campus golf course, so the drive over is a short one. But it’s enough time for the chirping to begin.
“Since Jacobs is here, I’m assuming we’re playing for fun?” Q quips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cody argues, and I chuckle.
Q checks us in, and we head toward the row of golf carts. He tosses the keys to me. The sun is hot over the perfectly trimmed green. The weather is perfect in the high seventies. It’s a relief after so many months of scorching heat.
“Shotgun,” Q calls out, sliding into the passenger seat. Cody grumbles, and we head off toward the first hole. I park along the side, and we grab our clubs.
“Hey, Jacobs, you might want to sit this one out.” Q nods at Cody. “Wouldn’t want to throw off your baseball swing.”
“I can handle it,” Cody deadpans.
But he can’t. His swing is ugly, but it still somehow works. He slices it toward the green with a hack job that makes us pause.
“Told ya,” Cody chides.
And we all take our turns. The first few holes are chaotic—lots of laughs and jokes at each other’s expense.
By the third hole, we’ve abandoned our scorecard entirely.
For all the trash Q likes to talk, he sucks at golf.
He’s hit more bark than grass, and Cody won’t let him hear the end of it.
The new goal? Golf like idiots, soak up the sun, forget responsibilities for a while.
Oh, and don’t get kicked off the course.
I’d hate to see headlines about three former CTU athletes getting tossed.
Cody’s driving now, and I fear for my life. “I have a daughter now, fucker. I’d like to see her grow up.”
“Chill, Campbell,” he retorts as he fishtails on the fairway while Q clings to the edge.
“For the love of God, this isn’t NASCAR,” Q grumbles.
“Speaking of NASCAR, some of my teammates and I went to Bristol in September. It’s nuts. The fans, the drivers, everything.”
“If this is a glimpse, I can only imagine,” I mutter. He slams on the brakes in response, and I nearly go flying.
By hole five, we’ve fallen into a calm after a few drinks. Our shenanigans have lessened, at least for us. There’s a slight breeze, and we lean against the car, taking a moment.
Q squints. “Par three. I could hit that with my eyes closed.”
“Bullshit, motherfucker.” I shove his shoulder. “Your ego is the size of Texas. The only thing you can hit are the pine trees.”
He flips me off, finishing the rest of his cocktail and grabbing his club. We watch as Q lines himself up, inhales and exhales a few quick breaths, brings the club back, and swings.
He slices again. No surprise there.
“Jesus.” I chuckle as Q yells a curse and Cody cracks up.
When Cody settles down, he bumps my shoulder with his. “How’s married life treating you, Campbell? Might as well throw in fatherhood too… It’s like you hit the jackpot all at once.”
I smile, knowing it doesn’t reach my eyes.
But even with everything going on, Savannah’s baby blues and late-night feedings, my answer is immediate.
“Better than I imagined.” And it is, because I got the girl.
The future we talked about when we were naive nineteen-year-olds with the world at our fingertips.
“Still can’t believe you got the girl.” Q grins.
“Speaking of, when are you locking Chloe down?” I ask, placing my club back into the bag.
Cody takes his hat off and runs his fingers through his hair before placing his cap on backwards. “I don’t know, man.”
“Uh oh, trouble in paradise?” Q leans against the cart and scrutinizes Cody.
“It’s not that.” Cody sighs. “There’s been so much change in our lives.
Her career is taking off, and a part of me worries she’ll grow tired of me and my schedule.
My job has me traveling from February through September, if not longer.
What if it gets old for her? We both had rough home lives.
I don’t want her future to be hard too.”
“Shit, man,” I say on an exhale. “I didn’t realize it was that deep.”
Quinton grips Cody’s shoulder. “All of us have struggled with our childhoods, but she loves you, stupid. Don’t piss it away being stuck on the what-ifs. I’ve heard her talk to Wilder. She’s excited to travel alongside you and see the world and watch you.”
“She said that?” Cody asks, hopefulness in his voice.
“Yeah, man.”
“Well, shit, I guess I’ve got to think of the perfect proposal.”
I shove him as we all laugh, but I catch the relief in Cody’s posture. He’s head over heels for his woman, and he’s terrified of losing her. Hell, I know the feeling. I’m married and still afraid Sav will walk out of my life.
“Then comes babies!” I shout as I walk toward my tee. “Diaper duty’s not so bad.”
“No one thinks that but you,” Cody calls back, and Q grunts his agreement.
After two hours, we’re finally on the ninth hole.
We banished Cody from ever driving, and he pouted in the back, but whatever; I didn’t want to die.
It turns out, I’m the best golfer, which surprises everyone.
Cody isn’t bad, but he dicks around more than the effort he puts into his swing.
Q is by far the worst. It’s nice to see he’s not good at everything.
We’re walking up a small hill as Q falls in step beside me. He’s humming a song, and I stare at him, brow furrowed. “Are you humming ‘Ain’t No Love in Oklahoma’?”
“Don’t knock Luke Combs,” he says, but as I just stare at him in question, his shoulders sag in defeat. “Wilder is obsessed with the movie Twisters .”
I snort a laugh, but it’s Cody who turns the conversation.
“Do you wish you would’ve found a coaching position somewhere else? One where you aren’t working under your dad and the pressure that comes with that?”
Q and I share a look. It’s a conversation we’ve both had multiple times. “Not for a second. This is where I’m meant to be. Besides, I would’ve missed my second chance with Sav. Even if I did miss playing, I could never regret my decision because it gave me her and my daughter.”
I glance down the fairway and try to imagine what my life would be like if we hadn’t had our second chance. One thing’s for certain; I’d be a lonely, miserable sonofabitch. She brings me happiness and a purpose.
“That’s fair,” Cody says, voice lowering. “Okay, man. I know you said married life is better than you imagined, and that’s great, but c’mon. What’s really going on? I mean, not that we didn’t want to visit, but there’s a reason Brynn called Chloe freaking out yesterday.”
I take a breath as my best friend nods at me, giving me the push to speak freely. “It’s an adjustment. I can tell things are getting harder for her, not easier. She’s shutting me out, and I’m worried about her.”
Cody lets out a deep sigh. “Think it’s like postpartum depression?”
“Maybe not depression, but postpartum anxiety.” I pause, heart heavy, and ready to lay my cards out. “I found house and apartment listings on her computer.”
“You snooped?” he asks with a wince.
I shake my head. “I was cleaning the kitchen and moved her laptop. The screen lit up, and right there was a house listing.”