“How did you do this?”
“Fell over.” He eyes me up with a small chuckle, and I retort back, “We can’t all harness the grace of a gazelle, you know?”
“Hmm, I’ve seen you in practice. I beg to differ.”
My heart skips a beat, and Nathan’s tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip as he concentrates, manoeuvring my foot carefully so he can wrap the cotton all the way around my ankle.
He finishes and double-checks that it’s not too tight. “Keep off it for a few days. You’ll need to sit out of cheering for the next game.”
“I can’t. Sophia’s not here, and I’m filling in for her.”
“Well, you can’t cheer with your ankle like that, princess.”
Mydown-thereregion flutters. It literallyflutters.
Am I starting to like the nickname?
What the fuck?
“I have to. There isn’t another option.” I glance down at my foot, slightly self-conscious. Feet are weird. “But thank you. I appreciate it.”
Nathan lowers his gaze. He’s not used to praise. He’s always facing criticism—whether from his father, the media, or even his own fans—and I can tell he feels slightly uncomfortable with the approval.
He doesn’t do good things for the applause.
I’ve seen it first-hand.
When he paid for my wine.
When he babysat Evan’s son.
When he butted in to make sure I wasn’t falling for Riley’s fake charm.
Those are the little things the world doesn’t get to see, and I know they wouldn't treat him the way they do if they saw who he really was.
A grumpy, guarded jock, yes. But he’s a grumpy, guarded jock with a heart. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
He’s been conditioned to brace himself for the storm, so when someone finally appreciates his efforts, his body wants to reject the commendation.
“No other option?” He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps bulging.
“I’d be fine never cheering again, but my mom wants this.” I pause. “She needs this.”
Nathan exhales deeply, settling on the bench beside me and resting his elbows on his knees with his fingers laced together. His gaze is fixated on the ground below. “For someone who treats you like crap, you seem to care about her a lot.”
I shrug. “I don’t want to be the one who takes this away from her. It’ll just give her another reason to hate me. And as much as we don’t get on, I don’t want to see her fail.”
My father and I were extremely close, but I have to remind myself that Cam and I aren’t the only ones who lost someone. My mother also lost her husband.
She’s always been a sharp and rigid person, but ever since he left, her skin has thickened. She’s afraid of emotion. Of letting people in. It’s a coping mechanism that I can’t entirely blame her for.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, though, and watching her world crumble wouldn’t make me feel any better about mine.
Nathan shakes his head, chuckling slightly. “I can’t relate to that. I wish I could, but you’re just a better person than I am.”
“They’re different situations, Nathan.”
His expression shifts as I use his name, but then his gaze glides across my face and down my neck. “Mae, you’re pale.”
