The Calm Before The Storm(2)

Chapter 5.

Brent’s POV

My phone kept buzzing like it was trying to kill me.

I dragged the pillow over my head, but it didn’t help. Whoever thought calling someone before eight in the morning was acceptable deserved jail time. The buzzing stopped. I had barely let out a relieved sigh when it started again.

“…You have got to be kidding me.”

I stretched an arm across the nightstand, blindly searching. My fingers knocked over a bottle of water. Cold water spilled across the floor as I finally grabbed the phone.

Eight missed calls. Five texts. All from Michael.

That idiot usually gave up after the second call. Something had to be wrong. Since my curiosity beat annoyance, I called back.

He answered before the first ring ended.

“Oh thank God.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Why the fuck are you yelling?”

“To make sure you’re alive.”

“I’m regretting answering already.”

“So you are alive.”

“Barely.” I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “What do you want?”

“You need to get to school. Coach is looking for you.”

I glanced at the clock. “Practice isn’t even—”

“Not practice. His office. And you’re already late.”

The playful tone was gone. That was enough to get me moving.

“Fine. I’m coming.”

I hung up, stared at my swollen hand for half a second, then forced myself out of bed. Fastest shower of my life. Clothes on. Bag over the shoulder. Front door locked. Car started. I drove like the campus was on fire.

By the time I pushed through the main doors of the athletic building, the hallways were already thinning out. Late. Of course I was late. Coach Jake’s office door was open. He was standing behind the desk with his arms folded, watching me walk in like he’d been timing the seconds.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I know.”

“Sit.”

I sat. The chair creaked. Coach didn’t move for a long moment. Then he uncapped a marker and wrote three words across the whiteboard behind him.

WINNER TAKES ALL.

He underlined them once. Slowly.

“The Regional Committee released the invitations this morning,” he said. “We’re in. So are the Black Eagles.”

My spine straightened.

“This year’s tournament is different. No second chances. One team wins. Everyone else goes home. National scouts. NIL deals. Professional pathways. The whole thing.”

I nodded, already calculating line combinations and special teams in my head.

Coach watched my face. “There’s more.”

“What?”

“Maddox is on a full athletic scholarship.”

I blinked. “What?”

“He didn’t get a free ride from your father. He earned it. From his grades, to performance. Even his leadership marks. The committee already has him flagged as one of the stronger captains in the region.”

I sat there processing that. Part of me had always assumed Michael Lennox’s money had greased something. Finding out it hadn’t… somehow made it worse and better at the same time.

“He’s still a dick,” I muttered.

Coach almost smiled. “Never said he wasn’t. But respect the work. You’re going to need every edge you can get.”

He slid a schedule across the desk. “First practice under the new stakes is tomorrow at six. Don’t be late again.”

I stood. “I won’t.”

“And Brent.”

“Yeah?”

“Keep the family shit off the ice. I mean it.”

I nodded once and walked out.

The hallway felt longer than usual. I checked my phone. There were no messages from Michael since the morning call. That was weird. The guy usually texted me three times before lunch just to complain about cafeteria food. I hadn’t seen him all day.

I headed toward the cafeteria on autopilot, still turning Coach’s words over in my head. Scholarship. Earned. Not bought. The thought sat heavy.

I was halfway across the room when a familiar voice called out.

“Brent! Over here!”

Michael was standing near the far table, talking to a girl I didn’t recognize. She had a tray in her hands and was smiling like whatever he was saying was the funniest thing she’d heard all week.

I walked over.

“Who’s she?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s Lisa. She seems to like me.”

“You think?”

“Of course yes! You’ve gotta see how she was looking at me. Eye fucking me. Too bad I’m gay.”

I only shrugged and headed toward our usual seats. Michael followed, still grinning.

We sat down and I sluggishly unwrapped a sandwich I didn’t really want. Michael leaned in like he had gossip that couldn’t wait.

“So, uhmm… Brent, what’s the news that I’m hearing about Sarah, your ex, getting a taste of two brothers?”

I almost choked on the sandwich.

“Sorry, what?”

“Sara’s been telling everyone how she’d fucked the both of you and how your brother’s got the better dick.”

“Wow?”

“It’s fine, Brent. Maddox is such an asshole. Can’t believe I actually had a crush on him for starters.”

“You what?!”

“Oops… nothing.”

I stared at him. He looked away, suddenly interested in his fries.

“I just hate the fact that I was trying to get closer to him, and then he had to do that shit,” Michael muttered.

Before I could answer, he glanced past my shoulder and his expression changed.

“Anyways, Brent, you’d have to deal with your emotions later cause I think the nigga you’re sulking over is standing right next to your car.”

I turned.

Outside the cafeteria windows, leaning against my car like he owned the parking space, was Maddox. Hands in his pockets. Same lazy posture. Same look that said he was already bored of waiting for me to notice him.

I stood without another word and walked out.

The glass doors swung shut behind me. Maddox watched me come closer, that same half-smile of his was already forming.

“What are you doing here?” I muttered.

He pushed off the car. “Relax. I had a day off of campus today, so I decided to check your school’s surroundings.”

I stepped into his space. He didn’t move back. For a second we just stood there, close enough that anyone walking by would have felt the tension.

I shoved his shoulder. He shoved back harder, just enough to make me take a half-step.

“It’s not my fault that your girlfriend liked my dick better,” he said, voice low and almost casual.

Then he stepped around me, climbed into his own car, and drove off without looking back.

I stood there in the parking lot, jaw tight, hand throbbing inside my pocket.

If Maddox wasn’t getting on my nerves before, o’boy was he making it worse now.