Page 115 of I Blame the Rival

“I’ve missed you too, Sky.”

We stay like that, clutching each other for a long time. The pain in my heart doesn’t go away, but the tears on my cheeks start to dry.

And maybe that’s good enough for today.

Vector pulls away first, his oversized hands gripping my face tightly.

“I don’t break my promises, Sky. Even if you don’t like what I have to do to keep them.”

I scan his face, looking for any sign of remorse. Any regret of the violence he’s unleashed to sustain a reputation.

There isn’t a single trace.

“I can’t come to your lacrosse games anymore. Not if you won’t put in the effort to get clean.” I swallow thickly, “It’s not fair to every other player on the field. Especially when you struggle with anger issues.”

Vector lets go of my face, studying me silently.

“I’ll work on getting clean if you start sharing your artwork again.”

“What?”

“Your art.” He says it slowly, like it’s the words and not the comment that has me confused, “I want to see it.”

I stare at him, waiting for the punchline.

Vector sighs, “Stop making this a big deal. You used to show me your projects and I would like to see them again.”

“Are you serious?”

“No. I’m joking.” He rolls his eyes, “Of course I’m serious, dumbass. Your girlfriend isn’t the only one who thinks you have talent.”

Warmth explodes through my chest as I smile at my brother for the first time in four years.

“I’m still not joining the track team.”

He grins, soaking in the happiness radiating through my features.

“We’ll see about that.”

Chapter 23

Lacey

Mo is in the kitchen when I stumble in for a glass of water.

He’s scowling at his laptop, a sweat-stained gym t-shirt plastered to his body. I eye him warily, unsure of how he’s already worked out and fully functioning this early in the morning.

“I didn’t know you worked on weekends.”

He grunts, not taking his eyes off the computer, “I don’t. Some moron pulled the wrong dataset for the quarterly report and now someone has to fix it.”

Besides being the assistant coach for the university’s lacrosse team, Nico’s partner also works as a financial advisor for an international corporation. From what I’ve heard, most of the work is virtual and pretty flexible, although apparently not when someone pisses him off.

“Can you fix it?”

“Of course I can.” Mo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But if people did their jobs correctly, I wouldn’t have to.”

I wince at the harsh tone and return my attention to rehydrating and crawling back into bed.

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