“Fair,” he conceded, sitting back on his barstool. “She asked how I was, pretended like she cared. Tried not-so-sneakily to pry about what was going on with us,” he said, waving between me and himself. “I told her I was moving on. It pissed her off and made her jealous.”

My stomach flipped and soured at once. “Well… that’s good, right?”

“It’s something,” he agreed, cutting another bite off his omelet. “I definitely think it shocked her that I didn’t give in.”

“Why didn’t you?” I paused. “I mean, that was the plan, right?”

“Yes, but not this soon. I know her well enough to know she’s just pulling on the string, seeing if I do what she wants.”

I bit down the urge to say how fucked up that was, taking another bite of my breakfast, instead.

“But it shook her up, for sure. Maliyah is like family to me,” he said, and the words stung me for some reason I didn’t understand. “And her family is like my own. That’s been the weirdest part of this, not just losing her, but her parents and sister, too.”

I nodded like I understood, even though I didn’t.

“If I know anything for sure about her, though, it’s that she’s a daddy’s girl. She wants to be just like him. And he’s a lawyer.”

I lifted a brow.

“Exactly. She knows me better than almost anyone, and she’s not afraid to use what she knows to get what she wants. She’s used to me bending over backward for her. Same with my dad, which is why he was frustrated I didn’t call him after the game like I promised I would.” He frowned. “I guess with Mom, too. Maybe with everyone.”

“You like to help others,” I said easily. “I watched it all last season with Riley and Zeke, and I see it every day in the locker room and on the field and in weight training. You’re always pushing everyone around you, guiding them, giving them pointers and tips.”

He licked his lip. “Yeah.”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“It’s not always a good thing, either.”

I nodded. “Well, how about this,” I said, turning to face him in my chair. “From now on, before you do something for someone else, make sure it’s something for you, too. Deal?”

“That’s a lot easier said than done.”

“Try.”

He smirked. “Okay. Deal.”

“Speaking of deals,” I said, turning back to the bar. “You’re not just helping me with… you know… things because you feel obligated to, right?”

“No,” he answered easily. “I’m doing it because I like you.”

My cheeks warmed.

“And because I can’t watch you swoon over Music Boy anymore without getting ill.”

“Hey!” I smacked his arm. “I do not swoon.”