Page 60 of A Major Puck Up

“That’s not a little something, Mills,” he gushes. “That was incredible.”

My chest expands under his praise. Maybe now is the time to tell him more about my music. Maybe now I should?—

“You should talk to Lake. She’d love to hear your music. Maybe she’d even help you polish it or buy one of your songs.” My dad lights up as he talks, brows lifted like he’s waiting for my excitement to match his.

I bite my lip to keep from giving away precisely how his words gut me. “Yeah. Uh, maybe.” My voice is hoarse, so I run with the excuse and point to my water, then shuffle back to my seat.

Once I’m settled, Gavin squeezes my thigh beneath the table, reassuring me. He sees me. He knows exactly how clueless my dad is. The daggers he throws at my father for the rest of the night are the only things that keep me from crying.

Later, when we’re in bed and snuggled close, he presses soft kisses to my forehead, telling me how proud he is of me. How beautifully I sang. But it’s not until he believes I’ve fallen asleep that he says the words that break me. “I’m so sorry, Peaches. Never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate my best friend right now.”

TWENTY

GAVIN

Present

“Uncle Gavin, can I get an ice cream cone?” Finn interrupts us, his hand already out, waiting for money. The kid knows I never say no to him.

“Your father is going to kill me,” I mutter, grabbing a couple of bills out of my wallet.

Finn counts them three times before holding out his hand again.

“What now?”

“I need to buy our friend one,” he says, motioning to Henry beside me.

The old man nods at him. “Listen to the boy. He’s much smarter than you.”

I scowl and prepare to stand. “If you don’t want to hear the rest of the story?—”

He reaches out and squeezes my arm. “You aren’t leaving me hanging here. I can guess where things went wrong, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything.”

I grab a twenty from my wallet and push it toward Finn. “One ice cream for you and one for him.”

Finn grins and runs off toward the ice cream truck.

“And no candy!”

I watch him as he gets in line behind a few other kids.

“So let me guess, her father caught you?”

If only it was that simple.

TWENTY-ONE

GAVIN

December

The fall was filled with almost weekly trips. Any time I could get away between games, I’d fly to Paris. Half the time, I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I only truly felt like myself when I was lying in bed with Millie. Whether that was in Paris, which was quite often, or when I was on the road and she’d fly in under the guise of wanting to see her brother play.

We met up in Vegas once when Lake and Ford came along to watch the Bolts play the Vices. Ford, thank fuck, was the one to invite her along, so there was no reason for him to be suspicious. Though we came dangerously close to getting caught during that trip. For months, I’d been agonizing over coming clean with Ford, and that trip only made the desire to do so more urgent. I just hoped that Ford would forgive me when I finally told him the truth.

Or at a minimum, not castrate me.

Ford’s blessing was a wish too far for even the brightest of shooting stars, but after that scare, I knew we couldn’t keep lying. It was only a matter of time before we got caught. And the fallout from that would be so much worse.

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