Page 72 of The Demons We Hide

“That might be one,” Roquel says suddenly, pointing to a guy standing to the side of the field with a notebook in hand.

He doesn’t look like what I thought a football player scout would. His sandy brown hair is wavy and longer than is popular and there’s a pair of glasses perched on his nose. More than that, he’s wearing… tweed? I narrow my eyes, leaning forward. The pair of slacks he’s wearing are dark brown and they match the patches on the elbows of his most-certainly tweed jacket. He looks more like a college professor than a football scout.

“No, I don’t think so,” I murmur.

“Well, I don’t see anyone else that could be a scout,” Roquel says, popping another popcorn kernel into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

I wrinkle my nose, but keep an eye on the man throughout the game. He remains in place, only shifting every so often when someone comes up to talk to him. Halfway through the game when the Silverwood Scorpions are dominating on the field, I see the coach split off from the team and approach the man. Maybe he is a scout, I consider, as the two shake hands and talk animatedly for a moment. Then, the coach nods back to the bench as the cheer squad takes to the field at halftime and the professor-looking guy is led over to chat with some of the team—including Lex, Nolan, and Gio.

I sit up, wishing I’d grabbed a perch closer so I could try to overhear what they’re talking about. I’m almost completely off my seat when a low, masculine voice calls my name.

“Juliet.”

Ice drips down my spine and at my side, Roquel goes stiff. The popcorn and soda sitting in my stomach battles to come back up. By some miracle, though, I keep it in place as I turn and glance to the side.

Morpheus stands at the edge of our row, and I notice that the group of freshmen that had been there earlier is gone. Wind whips into my face, shoving my hair back and stinging at my cheeks. I swallow—once, twice, and then a third time before I manage to respond.

“Hey.”

Roquel looks between the two of us and she must sense my discomfort because she leans around me as Morpheus moves closer. “Hi, Mr. Calloway,” she says brightly, and I could fucking kiss her as she leaps up from her seat entirely and bends forward to stretch her hand out. “I’m Roquel—Juliet’s friend.”

Morpheus pauses and his eyes settle on Roquel for a long beat. She keeps her smile plastered on her face, though, and doesn’t drop her hand. Knowing Morpheus as well as I do, I’m not surprised when he caves to social expectation, taking her hand, shaking it once.

“It’s, erm, nice to meet you, young lady.” He clears his throat before returning his eyes to me. “It’s good to see you here too, Juliet,” he says. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you for long the last time?—”

“You stopped talking to my dad.” The sudden outburst of words from me stops him mid-sentence. Roquel is still standing, her gaze bouncing from me to him and back again.

Her lips twist in obvious irritation. “I’m in the way,” she mutters. “I guess… I’ll just… go grab something else to drink.” She eyes me. “Before halftime is over.”

My insides riot. I don’t want her to leave, but at the same time, Roquel is a gossip. I don’t want her to hear what I have to say either. I should be surprised that she gave me an out at all.

“That would be nice, thank you, Miss Lee.” Morpheus nods before backing out of the way and allowing her to slide past him.

I watch her walk down the bleachers and wish I could call her back, use her as a shield, but it’s too late now. I stiffen my shoulders and turn to look Morpheus in the eye.

After a beat, he gestures to the seat open at my side. “Do you mind if I…”

I cram my hands into the pockets of my hoodie even further. “It’s a free country,” I say in answer.

He waits a beat as if expecting me to say something more. When I don’t, he sighs and then sits down. The scent of his expensive cologne, something spicy and heavy, presses against my senses. My skin feels alive, as if it’s waiting for an unwanted touch. Thankfully, though, Morpheus keeps his hands to himself.This time.

“You went and spoke to him?” he asks.

“I did, and he seemed surprised about my mom,” I bite the words out. “You never told him.”

Morpheus releases a slow breath. “No, I didn’t. I was hoping to convince her to come back before I had to.”

“Why aren’t you answering his calls anymore?” I ask. “He said you won’t talk to him. Yet, you pushed me to go see him.”

“I’m not ignoring his calls, Juliet.” The sound of my full name makes me grind my teeth together. I don’t know when it happened, but ever since coming here—hearing Roquel and Mads call me Jules and the nicknames from the guys… I’ve gotten more accustomed to those names than my real one.

“He seems to think you are.”

Morpheus presses a hand to his brow as if he’s tired. “I’m trying to work something out with the DA to get his sentence reduced if I take on the debt,” he confesses.

I blink. This is entirely new information. “You are?” I gape at him as he lifts his head and looks at me. “Why?”

He seems startled by the question from me. “He’s my best friend, Juliet. I don’twanthim in jail.”

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