Page 123 of Comeback
“Cute kid,” he says.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“How’s Sabrina?”
“Still sleeping,” I say. “Did London go to bed too?”
“Yeah. She isn’t feeling great either. I think she’s coming down with a head cold.” His beer rests in one hand, propped up on his leg. “So, what are we going to do about Graham?”
“What can we do?” I ask as I run a hand through my hair. It’s messier than normal from all the times I’ve tugged at the strands thinking about him being Sabrina’s landlord.
“If I knew, I’d already have done it. I’d love to kick his ass for the shit he’s pulled on you this season alone.”
“I can’t help but think this wouldn’t be happening if he didn’t already have it out for me. He’s picking a fight with me through her.”
“He’s a prick. There’s no telling what he would or wouldn’t have done. He’s threatened by you and what that means for his position on the team. That’s why he doesn’t mess with anyone else.”
“Maybe,” I say, wondering if it’s that simple.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. That’s what he wants. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”
“I suppose you’re right.” I let my head fall back onto the cushion.
“Cheer up. We’ll figure this out together. I already have a few ideas.”
“You do?” I ask, anxious to hear them because I have none outside of beating him so badly that he can’t sign the contract with Eleanor.
Brogan sits forward and glances toward the front door.
“That must be Olivia,” he says.
“I got it.” I stand to answer it.
“All right. I’m heading to bed. We’ll talk Graham’s demise in the morning.” His mouth pulls up in a half smile, like he’s going to enjoy taking him down as much as me.
With a nod I move toward the door, and he goes off to his room. I pull open the door without bothering to look through the peephole, but I guess I should have because it’s not Olivia.
“Flynn,” I say, taking in my baby brother standing slumped with either hand propped up on the sides of the doorframe like it’s the only thing holding him up. “What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too.” He stumbles forward, brushing past me and smelling like he fell into a liquor cabinet.
“Are you drunk?” I’m slow to follow him as my brain processes him being here at all, let alone wasted.
He plops down on the couch, sitting like his head weighs fifty pounds. Even still, he lifts it enough to speak where I can read his lips.“Don’t act like you weren’t doing the same thing when you were my age. I lived with you, remember?”
He tries to sign as well, but his movements are all over the place.
“I remember.” I take a seat on the other end of the couch. “What are you doing here?”
“The Twins cut me loose. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Shit.My gut twists into a knot. With everything happening lately, I’ve been too caught up in my own shit to think aboutwhat might happen after his bad game that ended the Twins’ season.
“Is Knox traveling this week?” It doesn’t make sense that he’d stop here instead of going to Valley. He and Knox are closer and that’s home.
“I don’t want to stay with him right now.”He keeps signing as he lies back with his head resting on one arm of the couch.“He’ll want to talk about it and I’m not ready.”
“Okay.” I guess that means we aren’t going to talk about it either. I can respect that. “Brogan just went to bed. Do you want me to wake him?”
