Page 42 of Chasing After You
Dave nods in agreement. “Head coach, Owen Lewis, has been speaking rather highly of your performance in recent practices and preseason games during the press conferences. Will you be able to rise to the occasion now that Sebastian Walker has retired?”
It’s my turn to stiffen, and I know Mirabelle can feel the change in my demeanor. Honestly, I can’t blame the guy for asking the question. It seems to be the same question everyone has been asking.
“Coach Lewis has done a great job in helping me prepare for my new role on the team. Sebastian is a legend, and I’ve learned a lot from him. I can only hope to be half the player he was during his career, and that starts by taking it game by game.”
Wow, Stacey should be proud of me. I’m proud of me.That was a very professional response to an uncomfortable question, but I also didn’t have a choice. Everything is on the line.
“This next question is for both of you,” he says, looking at Mirabelle momentarily, and something resembling guilt flickers on his face. “Is it true that Sebastian and Thalia Walker aren’t supportive of the relationship?”
Mirabelle sucks in a short, audible breath, and I try to remember what Stacey coached me to say if this question were asked. She suspected it was only a matter of time, given how many eyes and ears were on the field at practice when Mirabelle’s parents barged in.Oh shit, what did Stacey say again? I probably need to pay more attention to the important things, but how am I supposed to do that when she says everything is important.
“My parents aren’t happy about the idea of me dating anyone. I am their only daughter, after all,” she answers, evading the truth far better than I would have been able to.
“Will you be wearing a jersey with your father’s number on it or your boyfriend’s?” Dave continues, and I’m curious to hear her answer. It’s not something we’ve talked about, but now I’m wondering what she’d look like with my name and number on her back. If she doesn’t have one, I’m sure as hell going to buy one today for her to wear tomorrow.
I think I’d like that a little too much, if the way my pants are fitting tighter than they were a minute ago is any indication. Fucking hell, I need to calm down.
“You can find out tomorrow with everyone else.” She laughs, causing Dave to smile.
I crack a smile, taking my hand from her pocket to twist the end of her braid between my fingertips. It’s perfect to wrap around my hand. “Let’s stop trying to keep it a secret. We all know it’ll be my jersey.”
Mirabelle laughs and leans further into me, pressing against me perfectly. I don’t stand a goddamn chance right now. “You sound awfully sure, baby,” she says sweetly, but the glint in her sparkling eyes is anything but.
The only thing I’m awfully sure of is that since we kissed, Mirabelle has the ability to turn me back into a raging hormonal teenager, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
“Mon cœur,I’m awfully sure I’d like to see you try out my name,” I say, knowing that Dave is eating up every bit of this. I tug Mirabelle’s hair enough to cause her smug mouth to part in shock, and if we weren’t having this conversation with Dave, I think I’d kiss her.
Dave clears his throat, redirecting our attention back to him. Mira’s cheeks are a rosy red, and I should feel bad, but I don’t. “Mirabelle, has there been any new information regarding the fire at your family’s house? The last update was that the fire had been ruled arson, and the police were looking for any potential leads.”
My entire body goes cold at the reminder. Mirabelle doesn’t talk about the fire much, or that it was ruled arson. I don’t like to think about how someone could be following her, and that I might not always be there to help Mira.
“The detectives are doing their best, but any details regarding the case are confidential,” I interrupt, taking the lead on this one. The edge in my voice is a firm warning he needs to change the line of questioning, or we’re done here.
“I’ve heard rumors you’re considering competing in the Olympic Qualifiers coming up in order to compete in the games next year. Is this true?” Dave asks, getting the hint as Mirabelle threads her hand with mine.
People were surprised when Mirabelle bowed out of the international circuit to compete on Duke’s team, but I wasn’t. I’d seen firsthand how hard she worked to train her body and her mind. That type of dedication isn’t easy, and it’s perfectly okay for her to want as normal of a life as possible outside of the sport. She didn’t stop competing entirely, but I think she was happier at Duke than she would have been if she continued training for the next Olympics.
Mirabelle seems to find her voice, and her hand squeezes mine, silently asking for reassurance that I immediately give, being the supportive boyfr—fake boyfriend—I am.
“I retired from elite gymnastics after the games in France, and while I love the sport, my focus is on my career. I do plan to attend the Qualifiers, but only to support my old teammates,” she answers, but now I’ve hit my limit. This should have been over the second he asked about the arson case.
“Dave, it was great speaking with you, but you’ll have to excuse us. I’d like a moment with my girlfriend, if you know what I mean.”
Mirabelle looks up at me, raising her eyebrows.
Dave nods quickly, clearly understanding exactly what I’m getting at. “Of course. Thanks for answering some of my questions. Good luck tomorrow,” he says, walking away, and in case he looks back, I let go of Mirabelle’s hand and turn her to face me, resting my hands on her hips.
Mirabelle’s breath hitches as she looks up at me. “What are you doing?” she whispers, resting her hand tentatively on my chest. I wonder if she can feel how fast my heart is beating in my chest.
“I didn’t like the questions he was asking you,” I say honestly. “None of this was supposed to involve you having to talk about shit you don’t want to.”
“That’s . . .” she trails off, ducking her head as if needing a moment to gather her thoughts. “That’s sweet of you. Thank you.”
“Of course,” I say, acting like it’s nothing. It’s honestly the least I could do.
“I’m impressed. You did well answering his questions.”
It feels good to know Mirabelle thinks that. I shrug, playing it off. “It helps I had my babysitter next to me, ready to jump in if I needed it.”
