Page 7 of You Found Me (The Meadow Springs #1)

Spencer

Bastian told us before coming not to worry about planning anything during our visit and that he had it all covered.

Beckett and I protested since we’re here for his birthday. But considering how much more stubborn he is than us, we gave up on that fight.

Rather than do something he wants to do in celebration for his big day, we’re at the stadium for an unofficial tour, and I’m stunned.

Bastian knew how much I hated not being able to see it in all its glory during his first year with them this past season.

And with his teammates away for the day, we practically get the whole place to ourselves.

While I love the game, football was never something I was any good at—soccer was more my speed—Beckett and Bastian were born with all the hand-eye coordination skills. Bastian works his ass off to be as good as his dad once was, while Beckett just has natural athleticism.

We finish up a quick lunch in one of the press boxes and start making our way down to the field. Bastian turns to us and asks, “Wanna throw a ball around for a bit?”

“Are you for real? ”

He chuckles at my excitement while Beckett rolls his eyes with a smile. “Yep. I got permission from my coaches as long as we don’t ruin the field.”

Before I say yes, I look to Beckett to see if he’s cool with it—not because he’s my big brother and I’m seeking permission—but because of his finicky relationship with football.

“Since you can’t throw to save your life and Bastian is used to catching, I guess I’ll dust off the old quarterback arm,” Beckett responds to my unspoken question.

“Oh, fuck off,” I say with a laugh. “I’m not that bad.”

Bastian snorts and when I turn to him, he throws his hands up, acting all innocent.

After twenty minutes and zero passes caught by me, Bastian begged to call it quits. Not to spare my feelings, but because he caught a cramp in his side from laughing.

Beckett comes over, patting my shoulder. “You almost had a couple of them.”

Bastian quips, “Maybe with his face. Those hands never touched the ball.”

Shaking my head, I tell them, “I think I’ve had enough embarrassment for the day.”

“There’s nothing else for us to see here anyway,” Bastian says. “I tried to get access to the construction of the new stadium, but they shut that request down so fast. We can head back to my place whenever you’re both good to go and get ready for tonight.”

“Way to kick me when I’m down,” I joke.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Beckett asks.

Bastian smiles. “You’ll see.”

***

Turns out the plan for tonight follows the theme of Bastian doing things for us rather than himself .

Which is why we’ve been sitting in the audience of the Grand Ole Opry watching their live performance lineup in honor of their 100th year.

Visiting the Opry is something Beckett’s always wanted to do but never made the time to go. This is exactly where he wants to be, tapping along to a country song with a wide grin, laughing as he throws his arm around Bastian.

Looking over at Beckett—a big smile on his face as he mouths along to one of the songs—I realize that I haven’t seen him look this happy in a long time. If I’d known how happy this place would make him, even for a moment, I definitely would have dragged him here much sooner.

After the last performer, the emcee for the night thanks everyone for coming and we head out to the gift shop to grab a memento for our folks.

It’s a tradition. Our parents have a curio cabinet that used to house their wedding china, but one day, the three of us thought playing tag football in the house was a good idea.

That idea was brilliant for about five seconds until Bastian slammed me into it, causing the china to smack against the elegant doors, shattering every single piece.

It just so happened that Beckett had gone on a field trip to the aquarium the day before and bought a mug in the shape of a turtle with some of his allowance.

He ran to his room, grabbed it, and then gave it to my mom along with a big apology.

She laughed when she saw it, saying “ I never did like that china pattern anyway ” and placed the turtle mug front and center in the cabinet, cherishing the kitschy mug as though it was more priceless than the wedding china.

From that point on, every trip we’d take, they let us pick whatever type of cup we liked to add to our unique collection. We find a mug in the shape of a banjo, knowing right away that’s what they’re getting this time.

Bastian laughs a little before adding, “I think I saw a shot glass over there with a fiddle on it. I’m gonna go grab it for her.”

When he walks off, I turn back to Beckett. “You seem a lot happier these days. Everything’s good?”

“Yeah. It’s been weird not having you in town. But work is good, and I’ve actually been thinking of . . . ”

He’s interrupted by Bastian rushing over, quietly saying, “We need to leave.”

“What? Why?” Beckett asks in confusion.

“Some guy recognized me. He’s clearly thrown back one too many beers because he asked me if I’d sign his left ass cheek. Even after I politely said no, he started unbuckling his belt and turned around. I hauled ass back over here to let you know I’ll be out in the truck.”

Beckett and I laugh as we watch him rush outside. “And people like to say that it’s women who are the crazy ones when it comes to athletes. I think drunk men take the cake.”

I nod, agreeing with B’s words, “Definitely. But what were you trying to say before he ran over?”

“Oh. Nothing important. Let me grab a shirt for myself, then we can head out.”

I stand there, confused for about half a second before I see some guy, who has to be in his early seventies, stumbling into people asking if they’d seen Sebastian Maxwell. I’m never letting Bastian live this down.

***

We’re almost done with brunch at Milk & Honey, when Bastian gets a call from one of the coaches for an impromptu team meeting.

“I’m not sure what’s going on. The last time they called a Saturday meeting, one of our third string offensive linemen got into some major legal trouble. I should be done in enough time to change and then head out to the restaurant.”

“No worries,” I tell him. “I’d like to head back anyway so I can wash my clothes and get everything together. That way I don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool.” He hands us the keys to his truck. “I ordered a ride through one of those apps to come and get me after I got off the phone with Coach. It'll be here soon.”

Beckett shakes his head. “You didn’t need to do that. We could’ve easily done the same thing. ”

He waves Beckett’s words off. “Too late. I’ll catch you guys later.”

Once we settle the bill, Beckett and I make the short drive back to Bastian’s place.

When we get inside, I grab my things, throw them in the wash, and head to the other guest room where Beckett is with the laundry basket in tow.

“Want to toss your stuff in with mine? I’ll be sure to take them out of the dryer as soon as they’re done and won’t let them get wrinkled. ”

He laughs. “Yeah, sure. I need to make a call real quick, then I’ll help you clean up.”

“Sounds good.”

Once that's started, I decide to go through some work emails while I wait. As I begin responding to them, my mind shifts to Emmaline. I try to stop it, but ever since she came back into my life, she’s taken over my every waking thought.

Sometimes she even sneaks her way into my dreams. Never anything inappropriate.

Well, I guess I should say never anything sexual. Because thinking of—let alone dreaming about—someone who is engaged, and only reconnected with recently, has to be considered inappropriate on some level.

Or insane.

Probably insane.

I’m brought out of my thoughts when Sebastian walks in. “I’m going to hop in the shower really quick before we head downtown.”

“Cool. I made the reservation for 6:45 p.m. so no rush.”

He looks around and asks, “Where’s B?”

“He’s been in the guest room for a while. Not too sure what he’s doing.”

“There’s no telling with that one,” he says with a small laugh. “I’ll let him know I’m back and will be ready to go in half an hour.”

** *

After our dinner at Acme Feed & Seed, we decided to keep the night going at the rooftop bar, and the view from up here is pretty incredible.

Looking out, I can see Nissan Stadium, a better look at the new stadium, the Cumberland River, and all the other buildings on Broadway Street.

Breathing in the city air, watching the city come alive from all around me, reminds me why I decided to become an architect.

I want people to feel as I do when I look out at these buildings.

I want them to be awed, but more than that, I want them to feel a sense of peace when they see something that I created.

That’s partly why I agreed to come work with Theo.

His dad, Gavin, owns a construction company, Callahan & Son’s, and while he primarily does work in Charleston, he’s decided he would like to bring a few new projects into Meadow Springs.

He mentioned to Theo about wanting to expand and hire another architect before starting work in town.

While I still work remotely with Coleman & Jenkins, an architecture firm in Willow Beach, Theo thought of me for the new position as a way to have us working together again.

He knows the kind of ideas I can come up with, and the potential variety of projects we could bring to fruition at Callahan & Son’s.

My main priority is to prove to Mr. Callahan that he made the right choice hiring me.

Lost in my thoughts, I miss the fact that B and Bastian managed to find somewhere to sit. I see their drinks are getting low, so I order another round to bring to the table. “Were you guys just going to leave me by myself?”

“Dude, we tried getting your attention a few times but no luck. What were you thinking so hard about?” Bastian asks.