“So, about that date we discussed at the pep rally?”

I turned from my place in the food line to see Charlie grinning at me. “I looked for you after the game Friday night, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Yeah, because my aunt and uncle shipped me off with Brady.

“Since you don’t have a notebook at the moment, I’ll do all the talking,” he continued. “I was thinking maybe Saturday we could go to Nashville for the day. It’s only an hour drive away. There’s an excellent place I like to eat there, and then I have tickets to the Grand Ole Opry that night. Dierks Bentley is going to be there.”

I had no idea who Dierks Bentley was, but I knew what the Grand Ole Opry was. I was pretty sure everyone in the South knew what that was. But an entire day with Charlie . . . in Nashville? I wasn’t sure my aunt and uncle would be okay with that.

“Just think about it. I promise we’ll have fun. And I talk enough for both of us.”

I started to smile, when my gaze locked on a person looking directly at me. West.

He was sitting at the table were Brady sat, along with the other football players. They were all allowed to come in early and get their trays so they could leave earlier and head to the field house.

“You know West Ashby? Well, yeah, you probably do considering he’s your cousin’s best friend.”

I tore my gaze away from West’s and moved up as the line did. I had come to see him, and there he was. Looking right at me. I wasn’t invisible to him now. Maybe he had forgiven me for not talking this morning.

“You sitting with anyone?’ Charlie asked.

I shook my head.

“Want to keep me company?”

I thought about that. Charlie was a nice guy, and he was okay with the fact I wasn’t going to talk to him. I nodded.

That got a smile from him. “Awesome,” he replied.

We both took our trays after choosing what we wanted, and I let Charlie lead the way. I had no idea where to go sit. Luckily, he had a table where he always sat, and there were several other people there who greeted him as we approached. I was going to meet Charlie’s friends, it seemed.

“Hey, guys, this is Maggie. Maggie, this is Shane.” He pointed to a redhead with a lot of freckles and a pair of very large glasses. “May.” May was a brunette with short curly hair and a forced smile. She wasn’t happy I was here—I didn’t need her to say anything to know that; it was all over her face. “Dick—yes, seriously that is his name. His mother hates him.” The dark-haired guy grinned at me, and I could tell he was curious. The light in his green eyes said he found something amusing.

“Maggie and I met at the pep rally Friday, and I am currently trying to talk her into going to Nashville with me Saturday.”

May’s shoulders snapped back, and fire lit her eyes. “You’re taking her to see Dierks Bentley?” she asked, sounding completely horrified.

“Oh boy,” Dick said with a chuckle.

Charlie completely ignored her reaction. His smile stayed in place as he sat down then nodded for me to sit beside him. “Sure am. She’s going to love it,” was his response.

Shane snorted as he took a drink of his milk. It appeared Shane and Dick were both having a hard time keeping it together. But Charlie continued to be oblivious to it all.

“Uh-oh,” Dick said as he dropped his sandwich to the tray. His eyes went wide.

“What?” Charlie asked as I turned to see what Dick was looking at.

Brady.

He was looking at Brady. Because Brady was coming this way. And he didn’t look happy. His tray was tight in his grip, and the clench of his jaw was hard to miss.

“Maggie,” Brady said as he sat down in the empty seat to the right of me.

I just stared at him. What was he doing?

“There’s another one,” Shane whispered, and I shifted my gaze from Brady to see West walking our way. He was watching me closely and also looked unhappy.

When his tray clanked loudly on the table, everyone but Brady jumped.

“What are you doing?” Brady asked him as West took the seat across from Brady.

“Same thing you’re doing,” he replied, then turned his gaze to me for a second before glaring at Charlie.

“I’m making sure my cousin is all right,” Brady replied.

West shifted his gaze back to me. It softened. “Me too.”

Brady muttered a curse word, and West just smirked as he picked up his burger and took a bite. I was used to Brady being a little overprotective, but West? I didn’t understand why he was here. Because we had talked? Did his opening up to me and my actually speaking make him feel as if he had to look out for me? I didn’t need either of them to keep me safe. Especially from someone like Charlie.

“Great. You got the jock squad over here now,” May grumbled.

Brady and West both ignored her comment.

“Sooo, how about that game Friday night, eh?” Dick said with a nervous smile.

Brady lifted his head to shoot Dick an annoyed glance before going back to his meal.

“I don’t think they’re here to talk to us,” Shane whispered loudly.

No one said anything for a few moments. Awkward silence was something I had grown used to. But right now I really wanted Charlie to be chatty.

“You ever been to the Grand Ole Opry?” Charlie asked me.

I started to shake my head when Brady spoke up. “No. She hasn’t.”

I glanced over at my cousin, who was eating his food like he was mad at it.

“Oh, well. You’re gonna love it,” Charlie said brightly. He didn’t seem at all affected by Brady’s rude behavior.

“I still can’t believe you’re taking her. You hardly know her. You know I’ve been dying to see Dierks Bentley in concert forever,” May said, sounding hurt.

Charlie glanced at me, and I saw the frustration in his eyes. He didn’t want to let May down. Why had he asked me, then? I didn’t have to go.

“She’s not going with you. Anywhere,” Brady said in his less-than-jolly tone.

It was times like these I was glad I wasn’t expected to say anything.

The End Hurts

CHAPTER 12

WEST

The guys were going to watch the video of Friday night’s game at Brady’s tonight. His mom would make tacos and chocolate cake. She always did. It was something we did every week during football season.

I hadn’t planned on going. Hospice had come today for the first time. Dealing with that was harder than I’d thought it would be. Dad had needed the pain meds so much this past week, he wasn’t coherent enough to even ask about Friday night’s game. I’d sat in his room and told him anyway. Hoping that, in his drugged sleep, he’d heard me.

That he was proud of me.

Soon I wouldn’t be able to sit in his room and talk to him at all.

Getting away from the heaviness in my house was necessary to keep sane. Having a stranger there, taking care of dad while my mother sat beside him, holding his hand, was too much.

So I ran. And I felt guilty about it.

Parking my truck outside Brady’s house, I realized I was the last one here. They all probably thought I wasn’t coming. When I walked inside, there would be laughter and joking. None of them had any worries or pain to deal with. It was all good food and football.

I glanced up at the window that had been Brady’s before Maggie had moved in. I wondered if she was up there now or if she was downstairs eating tacos with the guys. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t be. But if it was up to Coralee, I had a feeling she would be forced to sit down there with them.

I didn’t know a lot about Maggie, but I watched her. So much so that I was afraid someone was going to notice and say something about it. Watching her eased my mind. Even from afar she was enough to help me breathe. I was becoming dependent on a girl I hardly knew.

Footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see who it was, and my gaze found her.

“Brady doesn’t think you’re coming. Aunt Coralee pulled Brady aside this afternoon and told her about your dad. She knows. Brady was upset and wanted to come see you, but she said to give you time. That you needed to tell him yourself.” Maggie’s sweet voice made my chest warm. That wasn’t something I was familiar with anymore. The coldness had been there for so long now.

She had her long hair tucked behind her ears, and she was staring at the house like I had been. There was a peace that came with her presence. I didn’t understand it because she carried so much heaviness. But for me, she brought peace.

“Hospice came today. Feels like the end,” I told her.

She tilted her head back and looked up at me. At six- foot-two, I towered over her five-foot-five frame. “The end hurts,” she said simply.

She wasn’t sugarcoating it. She wasn’t telling me I had to be strong. She was just being honest. She knew that words meant nothing right now. I reached over and covered her small hand with mine.

“It hurts like hell,” I replied.

She let me hold her hand as we stood there silently. This was what I needed today. Having her beside me, knowing she understood.

“Thanks. For talking to me,” I whispered, as if someone would hear me.

She turned her hand in mine and squeezed. “I’m here whenever you need to talk.”