Page 121 of The Way We Win

We sailthrough the first playoff game against a team out of Montgomery. I put Levi in as starting quarterback, but by the second quarter, he’s been sacked twice. My brow furrows, and I watch as he takes too long to decide what to do.

George is in the stands yelling until his face is tomato-red, and I don’t have a choice. I send Austin in to cinch the win.

It’s the same thing at the next game, and the next. Weeks are passing, and we’re making our way up the bracket to the state championship in Birmingham.

We have one week to go, and the boys, the parents, hell, the whole town is vibrating with excitement. Signs are in front of every business, and the school is decorated with posters and cup fences.

Back at my place, we’re putting the final coat of paint on the bookcase for Allie.

Austin has done most of the work with just a bit of guidance on using the jigsaw and making sure the brackets are level so the shelves sit evenly.

“What do you think about these flowers?” He frowns at the pink stencils at the top corners near the curved wooden trim. “Do they look cheap? Should I paint over them?”

A slash of white paint is across the side of his cheek where he probably scratched his face, and he studies his handiwork.

It’s a sturdy, wide piece of furniture, painted white with pink and green stenciled hearts and flowers around the top corners and down the sides.

Even when I’ve been away, he’s come over early and spent time working on it. I think about Allie seeing it at Christmas, and I can already picture the tears in her eyes. She’s so sweetly sentimental, and her son means the world to her.

“Don’t paint over them.” I rest my hands on my hips. “You’ve done a really good job with this. Your mom’s going to see how much work you’ve put into it, and I think it’s going to touch her heart.”

His shoulders drop, and he puts the paintbrush on the pan.

I expected my words to make him happy, but he seems just the opposite. He’s been playing so well in the games, far outperforming Levi.

Still, the championship game is only a week away.

We’ll be loading up and heading to Birmingham Fridaymorning, and I remember how I used to feel those years playing professional ball when we’d be headed to the Big Game.

“Nervous about Friday?” I straighten, glad I’m finally out of the sling and getting back to normal.

“Nah, I’m ready.” He sits heavily on the bench outside my workroom, and I walk over to where he’s leaning forward, his forearms propped on his knees.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Is this about your mom and me?”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m glad you’re finally making it official. You make her really happy.”

The only other thing I can think of is Rip.

He and I haven’t talked much about his dad or my changing role in his life. I’m pretty sure how Allie feels about it, but I’ve never said as much to Austin.

“I hope one day you might think of me as your dad.” I didn’t expect to feel so vulnerable saying this. “I know I’mnotyour dad, but still, I?—”

“You’re a way better dad than that guy ever was.” Austin’s hazel eyes cut up to mine, and I nod, feeling a little better about the situation.

“Okay.” I press my lips into a smile. “In that case, maybe I can help with whatever’s bothering you?”

His lips purse, and his expression is a mixture of frustration and impatience. Finally, he pushes off his knees, walking roughly in the direction of the door.

“Never mind,” he grumbles. “You wouldn’t understand.”

My brows shoot up. I’ve known Austin since he was a skinny middle-schooler, and this is the first time he’s ever hit me with that teenager shit. It’s more what I’m preparing to get from Kimmie.

“Hang on a second.” I walk over to where he’s facing the wall of hand tools. “Can you at least give me a ballpark idea of what it is before you write me off?”

His eyes roll to the ceiling, and his shoulders fall. “It’s about girls—somethingyou’venever had to worry about.”

I slide my hand over my mouth to hide a grin. “You think I’ve never had to worry about girls?”

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