Page 91 of Stealing for Keeps
A strangled laugh escapes. “Yeah.”
“You’ve met her?”
Oops.
“Briefly. We have that art project and worked on it at her place a couple of times. In the dining room,” I add, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.
“She’s incredibly hard on Claire. Ruby, her sister, too. But Claire was her golden ticket. Since she was a kid, Claire’s mom had her competing every chance she could, traveling all over. Claire was unbeatable in competitions. She’s got the face and the talent, the whole package. You should have seen her on the ice.”
“She loved it though, right? The way she talks about it, skating is all she ever wanted to do.”
“Yeah.” His head nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe. I don’t think her mom gave her a lot of otheroptions. I remember this one time, Claire wanted to do the talent show at school. I think we were in sixth grade. Anyway, no big deal, right?” He shakes his head. “Wrong. Her mom threw a fit. She made Claire feel like shit for wanting to miss one practice to do something else. She loved skating, sure, but her mom pushed her hard. Year-round curfews, diets, practices before and after school, the best coaches and choreographers, you name it. It was a lot. And that’s coming from a guy whose dad used to wake him up to run five miles every morning during the summer.” He gives me a rueful grin.
My throat tightens. I knew her relationship with her mom wasn’t the best, but hearing it from Vaughn’s perspective makes it all sound so much worse than I imagined. No wonder she didn’t have time for other hobbies or interests. My parents have always supported me, but they never pushed.
“Anyway.” Vaughn stands. “I’m glad you two have become friends. You’ll keep an eye on her? Let me know if there’s anything I can do?”
“You still care about her,” I say. I don’t mean it as a question, but he nods.
“Always. I love her. I’ll always love her. I didn’t stop wanting to be with her. I just couldn’t be there for her like she wanted. You know what it’s like. Soccer has to come first.”
A month ago, I would have whole-heartedly agreed with him, but there’s something about it that just feels wrong when I put Claire on the other side of things.
My voice is tight as I reply. “Yeah. I get it. My entire family moved so I could do this.”
“Then let’s fucking do this. You and me.” He holds out a hand, and I take it without hesitation.
“Let’s fucking do it.” I follow him out of the office. “Great teammates are better than good players.”
He arches one brow as he looks over his shoulder at me.
“It’s from your dad’s biography,” I admit.
“Oh, right. He was talking about his last team with Arsenal.”
“You’ve read it?” I don’t know why, but I’m surprised.
“When I was thirteen, I read everything I could get my hands on, looking for proof he was as big of a prick as I thought he was.”
I can’t help it; I bark out a laugh. “And?”
“Aside from some seriously bad fashion choices and questionable haircuts, I didn’t find much.”
“The fur coat, right?” I ask, an image coming to my mind of Coach walking hand in hand with Vaughn’s mother at some movie premiere.
“He still has that in his closet.”
“No way.”
“I’ll show you sometime. Just don’t touch it. He would definitely kill me.”
“Over the ball?”
“He’s a complicated man, Keller.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Austin
