A reflex that came from muscle memory. When it came to Ashna Raje, even though his brain felt nothing, clearly his body begged to differ—proving that it was time for him to deal with whatever issues his subconscious had held on to for so long.

There were only so many ex’s children he could be godfather to. He’d just found out that Myra was expecting a baby. She’d hinted at how she wanted no one but Rico to hold the title, because he was going to make a fabulous father someday. He would certainly like to give it a shot. With someone dependable and loyal. Not someone whose opinion swayed with the tide of those around her.

“Of course I dived to catch the knife. You can’t just let someone get hurt when you can do something to stop it.”

Rico shifted his leg and a good hard jolt of pain shot through him, a perfect reminder that he was only here to let go of the delusions his grieving teen self was still holding on to.

She’s just a girl I dated in high school.

He was ready to move on, to get on the pitch and win. You always started the game not knowing how you were going to win. All you knew was that you had to. The only workable strategy was one you developed as you went along.

“A true hero,” the journalist said with a level of worshipfulness that was always a bit disconcerting in close quarters.

“It’s not heroic to help people when you can,” he said calmly, even though he had the urge to snap: It was a bloody reflex! He smiled and sent up a prayer of gratitude when the car turned into the studio parking lot. The need to get out and straighten his leg gnawed ruthlessly at him. “It was lovely meeting you. If you have more questions, reach out to Rod. Let George know where you need to be dropped off and he’ll take care of it.” He patted his chauffeur on the shoulder and thanked him.

The journalist smiled. “This has been fantastic. Thank you and good luck with the show.” Then she threw him one of those knowing winks that people had suddenly taken to tossing his way. “Just make sure there are no knives around when you see Ms. Raje, eh?”

He tried to smile, he really did, but the limo pulled under the portico of the studio and he got out with the speed of someone who hadn’t just had his knee run through a shredder. He had never been so relieved to be done with an interview.