Page 34 of Rush

I don’t believe for a second that he forgot. The smirk on his face is telling me that.

“Seriously though, how can you not like football? Especially when your dad is a football coach. You must’ve spent your whole life around it.”

Not really. My dad was hardly ever home to share his love of football with me.

Of course, I don’t say that. I don’t want to get into the specifics of that with him. And it’s not that I don’t like football per se. It’s just that I resent the fact that my dad chose it over his family.

“It’s just not my thing.”

“So, what is your thing? Painting?” He nods his head in the direction of my easel that’s sitting in the corner of the room.

“Oh.” I swallow. “No. That’s just a…hobby.”

I don’t know why I lied. I guess…I just don’t want to tell him about another thing I’ve been failing at.

Ares stares at me for a long moment, like he’s trying to see what’s really inside my mind. “Hmm,” he murmurs. “Well, I guess I’ll have to see what I can do to change your mind about liking football.”

“Ha!” I laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Jailbird. You should know I love a challenge.”

Jailbird. Ah, so he’s back to calling me that. I guess not everything has changed then.

“So, what do you want to watch?” I ask, changing the question, trying to hide my disappointment.

His eyes assess me. Then, he shrugs those big shoulders of his. “I don’t mind. What are you watching at the moment?”

“Riverdale.”

“What’s it about?”

“A bunch of high school students who—”

“Pass.”

“I didn’t even get a chance to tell you what it’s about!” I laugh.

“You lost me at high school students.”

“Okay. So, no shows about schoolkids,” I say, scrolling through the listings. “Oh, have you seen Dexter?” I ask, coming to a stop on it.

“Nope. Is that the show about the serial killer who’s a cop?”

“Blood spatter analyst, but yeah. I’ve not seen it, but I’ve heard it’s amazing. I’ve wanted to watch it for a while, but I’ve been too chicken to watch it alone,” I admit on a laugh.

“Okay, put it on. We’ll watch the first episode and see if it’s any good.”

“You want anything to eat before I put it on?”

“Whatcha got?”

“Chips, um…some cookies, I think. Oh, and ice cream.”

He looks at me. “Chips are good.”

I push out of my chair and head into the kitchen. I grab the two bags of chips that I have in my cupboard.

“Which do you want?” I ask him, holding them up for him to see. “Cheetos original or Doritos Nacho Cheese?”