Page 100 of The Renegade Billionaire

BRAXTON

Pops’feet keep our porch swing swaying in a gentle rhythm while Grey inspects the shutters I leaned against the railing last night. It’s still warm out, but the cloying stickiness is gone.

“You’re not afraid of heights too, are ya, kid?”

Grey lifts a scornful-looking brow at Pops. “No. I’m not afraid of heights. But please remind me when I agreed to hang these for you?”

Pops kicks out his heels and clasps his hands behind his head. “It was yesterday afternoon, before I asked if you’ve ever plucked a turkey for Thanksgiving and after I asked if you loved working at Omni-Reyes or if you were doing it out of duty to Ace.”

Grey scoffs. “Right. You do enjoy tossing out those invasive-as-fuck questions, don’t you?”

“Life’s too short not to be doing what you love.”

“Brax, come down here and hand me these things so I can get back to work.”

I wink at Pops, then help Grey move all the shutters. He’s only at it for about fifteen minutes when Sage and Madison walk outside. I hope he didn’t make her late. I heard them whisperingupstairs so I gave them privacy, but she had planned to leave an hour ago.

“What happened to your eyes?” Pops bluntly asks Sage. The poor kid shuffles his feet on the porch.

“Pops,” I say, as Grey growls, “What the fuck?” and Madison stands behind Sage, whipping her finger back and forth across her throat to tell him to cut it out.

Pops ignores us all.

“I thought it would be better to try and fit in today.” Sage tugs on his earlobe, something he hasn’t done in years.

“Why?” Pops asks before I can intervene. Grey is stomping down the ladder, but I hold up a hand to stop him. In the time I’ve spent with him, Pops has never done anything malicious, and I’m choosing to trust him with Sage now.

Look at me trusting again.

“It’s a small town, and I didn’t want to embarrass Madi.”

“What?” Madison gasps. “You would never embarrass me.”

“Let me ask you this, Sage.” Pops calls him by his name, and I’m stillboy. Go figure. “Do you wear all that black crayon stuff tohidewho you are, or do you wear it because it feels likewhoyou are?”

Grey, who had been marching across the lawn toward the porch, stops short at Pops’ question.

Sage tilts his head and stares at the floorboards below him, but we all give him time. I’ll count to ten, and then if he doesn’t answer, I’ll cut in and give him an out. But this is probably something we should’ve asked him a long time ago.

When I glance over at Grey, I’m guessing he agrees by the frown on his face. He’s the only man I know with fifty shades of frown, but this is the one meant for himself.

I reach number nine, when Sage finally opens his mouth. “People always thought I was weird. It felt safer to give them theversion they thought I was than show them the real me and risk getting hurt.”

Grey’s heavy footsteps land on the stairs next to me, and the railing rattles a little when he clutches it. He looks as shaken up as I feel.

“Sage, I—I didn’t know that.” My throat feels thick and uncomfortable.

Sage shrugs. “I don’t think I did either.” His brows are still pinched together when he looks back at Pops.

“Now let me ask you this,” Pops says, putting his swing into motion again. “Did you leave it off today because you were afraid of embarrassing Madi or because you wanted to see if people would accept you for you?”

Jesus. When did Pops turn into a shrink?

“I don’t know,” Sage admits. “But it is exhausting hiding all the time though.”

“There ya have it, Sage. Be you, and don’t ever hide. If you want to wear crayons, you wear crayons and hold your head high. If you want to dye your hair blue and call yourself a peacock, then you do that too. The world is alive with color, as it should be. It would be a damn shame if we were all shades of the same color, don’t you think?”

“What the hell just happened?” Grey whispers.