“I’ll think about it harder if you work on Disney World.”
His agent looked at the ceiling with a groan. “Fine. I’ll call the Golden Penny Foundation and see if they’ll help facilitate. I’ll let you know tonight.”
When the door closed behind Chase, Beau leaned forward, releasing a heavy exhale. His head throbbed like it often did when he had Greg on his mind. He furiously rubbed at the scar on his temple to both soothe and try to erase it at the same time. His shoulders ached, not from the heavy load he had squatted, but from the weight he had been carrying—goals determined by grief and guilt, a life lived for someone who had given up their own for Beau’s.
Beau clenched his jaw, trying to turn his concentration back to his workout instead of dreams of Super Bowl rings and celebrations that had never been his to begin with. But his heart interrupted, and even though he and Sienna didn’t have plans that day, he needed to see her. He left the empty gym, took the elevator up to his apartment, and grabbed his phone that was plugged in on his nightstand.
Can I take you out later?
He placed the phone back down and opened the drawer, seeing Grace’s letter, which he hadn’t read since she had given it to him. The words twisted his gut and pulled at his chest. The letter was something Beau preferred to pretend didn’t exist, yet he couldn’t throw it away.
Grace is at a friend’s now, but I’ll need to be back for Scrabble night.
Beau bounced his knee and stopped when he remembered number twelve on the list.
Do you want to fly with me?
* * *
Two hours later, Beau rang the doorbell of Sienna’s house.
Henry opened the door and stepped back in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to pick up your sister.”
“Well, I know you aren’t here to pickmeup. I’m asking why you’re using the door. I thought you would’ve gone back to climbing through the window by now.”
“Very funny,” Beau said, stepping inside. “I didn’t think you knew that?”
“Oh, please. You two weren’t that stealth. I was being a good person. If I ratted her out, my dad would’ve taken a baseball bat to your kneecaps.” Henry pointed to the bag Beau held. “Is that a present for me? I hope it’s my color.” Beau rolled his eyes, and Henry gave him a pat on the shoulder. “She’s in her room.”
Beau nodded and walked down the hallway to Sienna’s closed door. He knocked, but there was no answer.
“I told you Grace is at a friend’s house,” Sienna’s voice bloomed from behind him, and Beau jumped. “That hasn’t been my room for a while.”
Beau turned, stepping across the hall. “Was this... ” he paused, glancing around at the neatly made bed, the soft white duvet. The bedroom was delicate and fresh—exactly like Sienna. “I guess I never had a good reason to go into your dad’s room.”
Sienna laughed, reaching for something on the dresser. “I hope you didn’t.” She tilted her face up for a kiss—one that Beau ended too quickly, judging by the look on Sienna’s face. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t want to choose between you and football again.
“Beau?”
His hand rose to his head, to the thumping on the side, but before Beau could run his finger along the scar, Sienna took his hand.
She’s here. He’s not.
“What’s going on?”
She’s right here. Talking. Looking gorgeous. Warm. Alive.
Beau circled his eyes around the room, as if he expected to find his brother somewhere—leaning against Sienna’s dresser, plopped on the corner chair with one leg folded over the other, looking at him impatiently, waiting for Beau’s answer. Greg’s presence would haunt him every time he had to make a career decision—contracts, coaches, endorsements, a ghost of the past distracting him from everything going on in the present—whether it was the TV, Chase, or his parents over the phone.
But this time, Beau heard Sienna say his name again, and when he blinked hard, she came into view, and he stepped forward, clinging to her.
There was the smallest jump of Sienna’s shoulders in surprise, but she quickly wrapped her arms around him.
“Are you okay?”