78. Maddox

SEVENTY-EIGHT

"Are you sure?" Hannah asks again.

"Yes," Chelsea and I answer at the same time.

Hannah tosses up her hands. "I'm just asking."

"For like the hundredth time," Chelsea huffs.

She's hardly even exaggerating.

Hannah called me last night, worried that going out in public was a bad idea.

I assured her it was fine.

She called me this morning, saying maybe I shouldn't come.

I told her I would be there at noon.

She spent the whole ride here twisting her hands together, suggesting I just drop them off at the stadium and that she'll figure out a ride home.

I ignored her.

Hannah looks up at me, worry written all over her face.

"Babe." I palm the back of her neck, keeping her at my side as we move with the crowd of people toward the entrance to the stadium. "Listen to me, yeah?"

She blinks and nods.

Chelsea peeks around Hannah to look up at me too.

"How many people are on the payroll at MinneSolar?"

Hannah huffs out a breath. "I think it's eighty-seven."

"It is." I don't know for sure, but I'm confident she's right. I tip my head toward the massive structure in front of us. "The Kids stadium holds thirty-nine thousand people. Even if every single one of our colleagues decides to come to today's game, what are the odds we'll run into them?" Before she tries to come up with the mathematical answer, I give her the reasonable one. "Low. The odds are low, Bunny."

"Bunny?" Chelsea makes a gagging sound.

I chuckle but keep addressing Hannah. "And what are the odds that all eighty-seven would be here today?"

She sighs. "Practically zero."

"So if we bring it back to the original equation and assume maybe one other MinneSolar employee is here, what are the odds we'll run into them?"

The look Hannah gives me is full of annoyance. "I understand what you're trying to do, but you also stand out in a crowd— from size alone— but you're also famous, which draws even more attention." She says the word famous like it's the most ridiculous thing in the world. "So if you want me to figure the odds of the situation, those factors need to be taken into consideration."

I lean forward to talk to Chelsea. "She always like this?"

Chelsea nods. "Always."

Hannah swats at me.

"If it makes you feel better." I pull a baseball hat from my back pocket and put it on my head. "I'll wear a disguise."

The hat is white, with the Kids's logo centered on the front, and I've had it forever, because Hannah was right, everyone likes baseball.

Hannah groans. "That makes you look like even more of an athlete."

"Fine." I pull the hat off my head and set it on hers. "You wear the disguise. It's my final offer."

Hannah looks forward, and I instantly realize my mistake. She's shorter than I am, so if she wears a hat, I'll never see her face.

"Just kidding." I pull it off her head.

"Hey!"

"Nope." I toss it to Chelsea.

"Mad—" Hannah switches to a whisper. "Maddox, what is wrong with you?"

God, she's being way too fucking precious right now. If her kid wasn't next to us, I'd shut her up with my mouth.

Instead, I give her half the truth.

"You're not wearing any team but mine." Then I think about it. "Actually." I drop my hand off the back of Hannah's neck and reach behind her to snatch the hat off Chelsea's head, where she just put it. "Sorry, that goes for both of you."

"Aww, come on!" Chelsea reaches for it, but I put it back on my head.

"Sorry, Smidge. I don't make the rules." I straighten the bill, then put my hand back on Hannah's neck.

"You literally just made up that rule," Chelsea argues. And she's not wrong.

A beat later, she leans around Hannah again. "What did you call me?"

"Smidge. Like a smidgen." Using my free hand, I hold my thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. "Because you're such a little human."

Her mouth drops open, and even though she's not Hannah's biological offspring, the mannerisms are spot on.

I grin at her.

"I'll have you know, I'm tall for my age," the child argues.

"Uh-huh, sure." I lean forward so she can see me when I hold my fingers up again.

"You know what?" The girl doesn't miss a beat. "Aunt Hannah was right, you should just drop us off."

My bark of laughter surprises the guy next to me so much that he trips.

"Sorry," I mumble to the man.

Chelsea slaps a hand over her mouth, and Hannah just shakes her head.