Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I frowned, pushing the egg around on my plate. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. Mom and I are pretty close, though she has her issues, too. One second she’s flying high with a new guy in her life, and the next she’s…” He paused. “Well, she’s not herself.”
“What do you mean?”
A shadow of something passed over his face, his eyes on his plate. “She struggles mentally. When things get hard, when she’s alone… she turns to things she shouldn’t.”
He left it at that, letting me put together the missing pieces.
“Seems like you had a lot on your shoulders growing up,” I mused.
His eyes met mine, brows unfurling. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.” He searched my gaze. “Sounds like you learned to make it on your own pretty young, too.”
The corner of my mouth slid up. “I think I prefer it that way.”
He met my smile, but then his phone buzzed, and he picked it up quickly, frowning when he saw it was Holden before he sat it back down again.
“Something happened with Maliyah yesterday, didn’t it?” I asked.
He cleared his throat, nodding.
“What was it?”
“Ran into her after the game,” he said, sniffing. “We talked a bit.”
“And?”
He smirked at me. “Nosy.”
“Come on! I tell you everything about Shawn.”
“Fair,” he conceded, sitting back on his barstool. “She asked how I was, pretended like she cared. Tried not-so-sneakily to pry about what was going on with us,” he said, waving between me and himself. “I told her I was moving on. It pissed her off and made her jealous.”
My stomach flipped and soured at once. “Well… that’s good, right?”
“It’s something,” he agreed, cutting another bite off his omelet. “I definitely think it shocked her that I didn’t give in.”
“Why didn’t you?” I paused. “I mean, that was the plan, right?”
“Yes, but not this soon. I know her well enough to know she’s just pulling on the string, seeing if I do what she wants.”
I bit down the urge to say how fucked up that was, taking another bite of my breakfast, instead.
“But it shook her up, for sure. Maliyah is like family to me,” he said, and the words stung me for some reason I didn’t understand. “And her family is like my own. That’s been the weirdest part of this, not just losing her, but her parents and sister, too.”
I nodded like I understood, even though I didn’t.
“If I know anything for sure about her, though, it’s that she’s a daddy’s girl. She wants to be just like him. And he’s a lawyer.”
I lifted a brow.
“Exactly. She knows me better than almost anyone, and she’s not afraid to use what she knows to get what she wants. She’s used to me bending over backward for her. Same with my dad, which is why he was frustrated I didn’t call him after the game like I promised I would.” He frowned. “I guess with Mom, too. Maybe with everyone.”
“You like to help others,” I said easily. “I watched it all last season with Riley and Zeke, and I see it every day in the locker room and on the field and in weight training. You’re always pushing everyone around you, guiding them, giving them pointers and tips.”
He licked his lip. “Yeah.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
“It’s not always a good thing, either.”
I nodded. “Well, how about this,” I said, turning to face him in my chair. “From now on, before you do something for someone else, make sure it’s something for you, too. Deal?”
“That’s a lot easier said than done.”
“Try.”
He smirked. “Okay. Deal.”
“Speaking of deals,” I said, turning back to the bar. “You’re not just helping me with… you know… things because you feel obligated to, right?”
“No,” he answered easily. “I’m doing it because I like you.”
My cheeks warmed.
“And because I can’t watch you swoon over Music Boy anymore without getting ill.”
“Hey!” I smacked his arm. “I do not swoon.”
Clay stood, batting his lashes as he clasped his hands by his chin. “Oh, Shawn! I love that song! Oh, Shawn, what big hands you have! All the better to play that big, bad guitar with. Oh, Shawn!”
I picked up a piece of bacon that had fallen out of my omelet and flicked it at him before he could continue, loving the roar of a laugh that came from him when I did.
“I’ve got to run,” he said, looking at the time on his phone before he tucked it away. “I’m meeting Holden for some drills.”
“It’s Sunday. Your day off,” I reminded him. “You just played a game yesterday.”
He shrugged. “When you want to be the best, there are no days off.” Then, he paused. “Are you… okay this morning?”
I flushed, looking down at my plate. “A little sore, but… yes.”
“Good.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but never did. Instead, he swiped his hoodie off the back of the barstool where he’d left it the night before.