“You’re right,” Zeke said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m glad to see you doing so well, honestly. I was worried there at the start of the season.”

“You weren’t the only one,” I confessed, and as we rounded the corner toward the locker room, we were met by a dozen giggling cheerleaders.

Maliyah included.

She was soaked head to toe, every inch of her uniform sticking to her lean body. Water was still gliding down her arms, her abdomen, her legs, more and more of it being released from her hair and adding to the stream.

Her laugh stuttered when she saw me, and her eyes flicked from me to Zeke and back again while all the cheerleaders watched her.

Watched us.

“Hey,” she finally said.

I swallowed. “Hey.”

One of the cheerleaders looped arms with two others and pulled them forward, the rest of the girls following and leaving us alone. Zeke gave me a look, a tilt of his chin his only farewell before he ducked inside the locker room.

Then it was just the two of us.

“That was a great game out there,” Maliyah said, and something of a smile bloomed on her lips with the words. “You’re even faster than I remember. They don’t stand a chance of being open when you’re out there.”

I sniffed. “Thanks.”

It wasn’t what I expected, standing there with her, finally alone for the first time since school started. I’d dreamed about having this moment for so long, what I would say, what I would do… but none of it felt like I thought it would.

Part of me longed to hold her, to reach out and pull her into me, to demand answers and ask why she was doing this.

But there was another part of me, louder than it had ever been, that was just… annoyed.

“Daddy was watching, too,” she said. “He wanted me to tell you how proud he is of you.”

That burned me more than I cared to admit.

Cory was the closest thing I’d had to a father figure since my dad left. They’d been close friends when I was younger, and I didn’t know if it was because of that or because of Maliyah that he’d taken particular interest in my life. He helped me when school got tough and Mom didn’t know what to do, or when I needed to shake off the mental pressure of football. He was a lawyer, calculated — but smart as hell.

His pride was something I wanted, even when I hated to admit it.

“I appreciate that,” I said with a little less bite.

Maliyah folded her arms over her chest, eyes a bit sad as she asked, “How are you?”

“How do you think I am, Li?”