Page 75 of The Fake Play

I already know the answer.

Pride.

My breath comes in short gasps but I force myself to keep up. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, he pulls ahead, crossing the line a fraction of a second before me.

“Guess we know who the real Luke is,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder, his smirk infuriating.

My jaw and fists clench but I have to keep my eyes, and head, on the prize. “Good skate, Lucas.”

This is one small battle and I have bigger fights to win. Every day on the ice, I’m under a microscope, every move scrutinized, every mistake another mark against me. But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel crushed by the pressure. I feel ready.

Esai catches up with me after the race. “Heading home?”

“I’m here to train.”

“You already?—”

“I am here to train, Esai.”

He nods once. “More drills?”

“More drills.”

Chapter 32

Keke

My hand drifts unconsciously to my stomach, still flat. Not yet physically betraying the secret I’d revealed to the world. I hadn’t meant to let it slip like that in front of everyone. That was the last thing I wanted, especially with everything I was already dealing with. But it’s out there, nothing I can do about it now.

In PR, you do your best not to become the story, yet in a moment of anger, jealousy, and confusion, I did exactly that.

My job should be my safety net, my way of staying grounded. When I'm managing someone else’s problems, I don't have to think about my own. I can pretend, even just for a little while, that I'm not afraid of commitment or any of the other complicated things that seem to haunt me.

With a sigh, I finally turn off the engine and get out. Dread and determination walk beside me as I approach my brother’s front door. Michael had known Luke was going to propose, and he’d kept it from me. In fact, he’d orchestrated part of it, getting us that reservation with zero notice.

I’ve always kept Michael and my family from meeting the guys I was dating. I have a habit of picking guys I know won't work out so I never bother. Handsome on the outside, but thegood qualities usually end there. That's why Michael was so confused after my ex attacked his restaurant and told him to call me and I’d explain. What a nightmare that day was.

At least he’d been nice to look at. All of my ex’s were. That was my only requirement. I’d often comforted myself by thinking I was just superficial and shallow but that was a cozy lie.

The door swings open before I can knock. Michael stands there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable, looking every bit the giant Viking he pretends to be. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Come on in,” he steps aside.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself as I step into his living room, my eyes flicking over the surroundings. His home is posh, with open, airy rooms decorated with expensive art. As much as we’re alike, our priorities are very different. Michael cares about impressing people with extravagance, whereas I worry about not being perfect all the time.

“So,” he starts, crossing his arms again as he leans against the wall, watching me. “Are you finally ready to tell me what’s going on, or am I supposed to keep guessing?”

I force a smile. “Guessing is fun. You’ve always been good at it.”

He doesn’t return the smile. His face is serious, and there’s disappointment in his eyes, or maybe it’s more concern. Either way, my heart sinks.

“Keke, you don’t have to put up a front with me. Just tell me.”

I take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I’m pregnant.”

He nods slowly. “I know.”

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