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“Because I didn’t feel reasonable. I don’t now. I’m tired of pretending to be reasonable with these maniacs. I knew the vultures would descend. I knew the Swells would flip out. So I met Phil here this morning.”

Carver grinned. “But what he didn’t know about was Cilla’s break-in.”

“Which, I might add, you didn’t bother to tell me either.” Tyler raised his eyebrows.

Oh. Right. “About that….” Josh grimaced. “You had enough to worry about.”

“Hi? Pot, kettle, black.” Tyler glared at him. “Nice try, Coach.”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Nothing happened. Not really.”

“Nothing.” Tyler scoffed. “Well, aside from several crimes, a bloody assault, Cilla Miller arrested, an apology from three TV stations, the Swells publicist falling on his sword, and a fat settlement from Boris Jarlson, who orchestrated all this ugliness with KSDF to get me back out on the field so he could make me go smash a second time.”

“Wait… Cilla?” Josh looked up at him in horror. “Clickbait. Jesus.” He squeezed Tyler’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “You put me through hell this week, you know that? Get ready, because I plan to make you pay in spades for messing with my head.”

Tyler grinned sheepishly. “I know, I’m sorry. But I’m here now. For good.” His voice softened. “If you’ll give me a shot.”

Laughing and crying at the same time, Josh just shook his head in wonder. “Of course I will, you big idiot.” He pulled Tyler into a tight hug, beyond grateful to have him home at last.

“I’m so sorry. I should have told you everything instead of trying to handle it solo.”

Josh sighed, breathing in Tyler’s familiar scent. “We’ve both got some making up to do.”

Carver cleared his throat, a smile on his face. “We do have one or two other bits of business to discuss.”

“Sorry.”

“So as I’ve explained to Tyler, the lock-in did more than just raise money. Demand for round two is through the roof. We’ve gotten more requests for a follow-up than questions about prom.” Carver spread his hand wide. “As of Sunday at 11:00 a.m., the town council has funded our library fully and put protections in place to combat censorship. Thanks to you two.”

Tyler squeezed his hand. “But that’s not my big news.”

“Ditching the NFL isn’t news?”

“No. It is, but it’s not why I waited to say anything.” He nodded at Carver.

“Mr. Fantana has asked, and the district has agreed, to host a pilot program.”

“It’s a lot of money, Josh, from Jarlson. A whole lot.” Tyler grinned like a naughty kid ready for a tear. “We’re going to launch a charity focused on abused and at-risk kids.” His eyes were wet.

“Oh, Tyler.”

“An athletics camp with visiting pro players, free academic tutoring, and long-term counseling for the families.” Tyler wiped his eyes. “I’m going to name it after my mom. Nadia will run the internals. She gets a big fat salary. I get to do something that matters.”

Carver said, “And I’m honored to say that Hamilton High will be the pilot program.”

Tyler squeezed his hand tight again. “All the communities in a fifty-mile radius. And then we expand to cover families across the entire country. If it’s okay with you.”

Josh nodded, crying for real now and wiping his face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

He gazed at Tyler, who was practically vibrating with excitement discussing the details. After everything they’d endured, they were finally able to work together to help others. And Tyler was here to stay.

Carver stood up. “Now I suspect you have details to discuss. Maybe in your office.” He smiled then.

Josh rose and embraced Tyler, unable to contain his joy, his pride. “Thank you,” he said to Carver. “For everything. We couldn’t have gotten this far without your support.”

Carver waved him off. “You two have worked harder than anyone. I’m just happy to play a small part. Go get cracking. You’ve set a high bar.”