Page 34 of Your Last First Kiss

“It was going to be a hotel,” Miller says, walking across the room and turning on the overhead lights. “This would have been the lobby. My grandfather had a plan for this place. An entirely self-contained sporting complex to host a variety of tournaments.”

Ashton’s words echo in the back of my head. I search the space with a clinical eye and choose my words carefully. “What happened to it?”

“Politics. For as long as I can remember, this town has been mostly funded by the Brandts, from the shitty jobs they offer to the donations they make. They own a chain of car dealerships. Remy, my grandfather, said they wanted naming rights, and when he refused, the permits started getting rejected or pulled altogether. Before you knew it, years passed, and my grandfather was losing his shirt financially, so he had to scale back on his dream.”

“So it just sits empty? Kai said he plays here.”

“The gym is open. And the kicker? The next generation of Brandts now have a son who plays here because it’s the only facility in the area.”

“Why doesn’t your grandfather try to build it now?”

Miller laughs darkly. “We’re talking about a feud passed down over generations. Remy’s seventy years old now. He’s still the best-damned coach any of these kids have ever had, but the second he finds a buyer, he’ll be sipping Bud Lights out on the lake.”

“He’s selling?” Ashton’s vague plans sit heavily on my shoulders.

“This place has been for sale since I was a kid. The Brandts are the only ones with the money to keep it running, and Remy will burn it to the ground before he lets them have it. So it sits in a stalemate.”

The only ones who can afford to run it unless you happen to have a trust fund that sits untouched. Fucking Ashton.

“You don’t want to take over?” I ask.

“I’m a physical education teacher, Dillon. And a single dad. My bank account gets maxed at Christmas time. I can’t afford it, and Remy can’t afford it much longer either.”

“How many kids play here?” I walk around the dusty space. My hands itch with familiarity and, even more concerning, longing.

“We have twenty-seven teams, ranging in ages from five to eighteen.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Miller pulls off his winter beanie and runs his hands through his mop of hair as he watches me. “Want to see the gym?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation, and he laughs.

“Were you an athlete?”

I give him the side eye. “I think I should be insulted that you asked that in the past tense.”

He laughs but holds open a door to a wide hallway that reminds me of the tunnels leading from locker rooms out onto football fields.

“We were all something at some point,” he says. “But if I’m being honest, Ashton actually told me you were pretty good.”

I snort. “Why does it always feel like that guy is silently guiding my life?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past him.” He nods toward a set of double doors. “That was the indoor pool. We had to shut it down because the insurance to run it was too high. Down that hallway are the indoor turf fields.”

“You have more than basketball here?”

His grin grows to just shy of maniacal. “We have everything here. Or had, anyway.”

We reach the end of the tunnel, and I get my first glimpse of the courts surrounded by stadium seating. Miller steps to the side, and I hear the nostalgic whoosh and jolt when he lifts the breakers. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh sounds in my ears as the overhead lights turn on one by one.

Memories from my youth assault me when I look around, and the banner along the wall catches my attention. “The Demons?”

“Welcome to the messy parts of life, Dillon. Eddy is my cousin by marriage, so Remy let him sponsor the teams a few years ago before things got real messy. But he was drunk when he placed the order for uniforms and spelled his name wrong. So now the uniforms say Demon’s instead of Damon Detailing, and he doesn’t have the money to fix it. I may have run with it,” he says, pointing at the posters with a smirk.

“That must be embarrassing for Kai,” I mumble.

He stops short and curses. One hand drags roughly through his hair with his eyes cast to the floor, and the other hand falls to his hip. “I hadn’t thought of that. He never said anything.”