Page 26 of Pump Fake

“I did it! I made the team.”

“What are you talking about, P? What team?”

“Hey, are those tacos?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“Cool.” A loud crunch sounded.

“Preston, what team?” Ares asked again.

“The football team. Coach let me try out late, and I made it. Probably because he knows about you, though.”

“I doubt that, P. A coach won’t let you be part of the team because you’re related to someone. He must’ve seen talent in you.”

“Thanks.”

Though Preston said it around a mouthful, I could hear the pride in his response.

“Your mom and dad would be so proud.”

“Yeah.” A wistfulness entered Preston’s tone, and I froze atthe sudden vulnerability. “Mom went to every one of your games. She loved football. I don’t know why I didn’t try out sooner. I just wish she were here to go to my games too. She’ll never know…”

My throat tightened at the pain choking his young voice.

“She knows. Trust me, P. She’s watching you all the time. Your dad too. Every game, they’ll be watching. And I’ll be there.”

“I know, or at least when you don’t have a game.”

Ares grunted.

“I miss them. So goddammed much.”

“I do, too, bud.”

They talked briefly before Ares asked how Preston had gotten there and if his nana knew. A friend from the team had driven him and was waiting to take him home. They said goodbye shortly after, and when I heard the door shut, I unfolded from my hiding place.

I met Ares’s sad eyes as the pieces fell into place. “I didn’t know. I mean, I did, but not really.”

“It sucks. My sister was an amazing performer and a great singer, and she and her husband were coming home from a gig one Saturday night. A tired trucker hit them head-on. Then she was just… gone. I think the suddenness of it all affected Preston the most.” He blew out a breath as I closed the distance between us. “The accident was two years ago. My mom took Preston in, but it’s been hard. He’s a little lost. I do what I can. Iwantto do more.”

“But you have school and football, and there are only so many hours in the day,” I finished for him, and he grimaced. I got it. I wanted to take my sister in so she didn’t have to deal with our mom. Our hands were tied in a sense. They were both okay where they were, and we could help more when we graduated and got full-time jobs.

“I wish I’d known the loss was so recent.” Two years wasn’tthat long ago. “The school mentioned he was living with his grandmother, but that’s all I knew.”

“I’m not surprised the academy didn’t tell you, but they should have. It’s frustrating. The knowledge would help a substitute teacher prepare to handle a struggling kid.”

“Yeah, it’s a problem. I would have dealt with things differently.” And I intended to going forward. “I know what it’s like, in a sense, losing a parent. While my dad isn’t dead, he messed up and broke apart our family. Mom’s not the greatest. She’s dealing with her own sense of betrayal and loss and not handling things well for my sister. And Dad… we won’t get to spend birthdays or Christmas with him at home, as he’s in prison. It’s not the same as losing a parent, but it’s still… difficult. The worst part is knowing that the dad Ithoughthe was isn’t real. He wasn’t the greatest, but now I know that his persona was nothing but lies.”

Ares hauled me into his arms. “I’m sor?—”

I rested my finger against his lips, silencing him. I didn’t need to hear the words, but the hug helped ease my discomfort. And the closeness ignited something more. Heat sparked in his topaz eyes at my touch, and a thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach. I’d just gained insight into Ares’s world, which was just as messy as mine, if not more so. I’d thought he had it all, that his life was relatively easy. It wasn’t, and he’d never looked more attractive to me than he did at that moment.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ARES

Coach blew the whistle, and we huddled for one of his after-practice chats. With my helmet tucked under my arm, I stood next to Kylian and Liam, my mind straying from Coach’s spiel to relive last night with Brielle in my bed. We weren’t in a relationship, but we were mutually exclusive. It should have been enough. It wasn’t. I wanted more, and that alone was throwing me off my game. A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder pad, and I jolted back to reality.

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