The foot stomping and overall chaos from the people surrounding them caused the walls of the Tavern, one of Austin’s oldest sports bars, to vibrate with unrestrained excitement. As with the previous three touchdowns, a host of fans came up to Jamar and Taylor’s table to offer high fives.

He reminded himself that interacting with the public—having them see him out with Taylor—was the main reason they chose to come to this bar to watch one of the most anticipated games of the season. Though tempting, asking Taylor to move to one of the more secluded tables would defeat the purpose of their being here.

“I guess the Longhorns did something good,” Taylor said once the volume in the sports bar had returned to just below jackhammering at a rock concert decibels. She propped both elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “As I was saying, you haven’t mentioned your trip to Houston. Is everything okay?”

“It is now,” Jamar answered. “Well, except for the fact that I walked in on my parents in an…umm…compromising position on the kitchen counter. I’ll never be the same again.”

“Oh, God, no. That is the worst! It happened to me when I was eight. My mom said they were wrestling, so I ran in the bed and joined them. Needless to say, it didn’t end well. And I’m sorry to confirm it, but you’re right, you will never be the same.”

“I’m trying to put the entire ordeal out of my mind.”

She barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“You’re having too much fun at my expense,” Jamar said.

“I’m laughing with you,” she said. “So what was the point of your trip to Houston, other than an impromptu visit to surprise your parents that went horribly wrong? I thought it was an emergency. You sounded…I don’t know…unsettled when you called to cancel our session.”

“I was a lot unsettled,” he said.

He glanced up at the screen just in time to see Texas Tech’s kick returner get clobbered in a bruising tackle. Jamar winced, recalling with painful clarity how it felt to have 260 pounds of muscle crashing into him at twenty miles an hour. That was one thing he didn’t miss about football.

“A friend—no, more than just a friend,” he corrected. “A man who is like a grandfather to me suffered a fall and ended up in the emergency room. He’s the grandfather of my best friend from high school.”

“Silas Cannon?” she asked.

Jamar’s shoulders stiffened with shock. How did she know about Silas?