Page 95 of Behind the Net

Jamie’s eyes are bright. “Safe is boring.”

The breath whooshes out of me. “Exactly.”

He studies me for a long moment before his expression softens. “Good.”

“Good?” I lean forward, giving him a bemused look. “Are you listening? This is a fucking disaster, Jamie.”

His eyes are steady on my face. “It’s not a disaster.”

Everything my parents worked so hard for, down the drain. All the things they scrimped on so they could afford for me to go to university, all the high hopes they have for me, down the drain. I think about my mom teaching ballet classes, a daily reminder that she failed to make it to the professional level.

Failure hurts, she once said to me.

Jamie leans forward, searching my gaze. I feel the urge to climb into his lap and cling to him like a koala, burying my face in his neck and inhaling him. That’s the only thing that’ll make me feel better right now.

“What about music?” he asks softly.

“What about it?” My heart beats hard, and just saying the words hurts. They feel insincere. They feel cruel and like a betrayal of myself, which makes no sense, because it was never an option anyway.

You don’t have it, Zach told me.

Anger grows inside me, and my fists clench. What if I do, though? The desire to take control, to stop being this girl that things happento, wraps around my throat and squeezes.

“You have the drive, Pippa.” His tone has a frustrated bite to it, and his gaze pins me. “You’re so fucking talented, and the only person who doesn’t see this is you.”

I roll my eyes with a bitter laugh. “Zach didn’t see it.”

“He saw it,” Jamie spits out. “He definitely saw it.”

Our surroundings fall away as our gazes lock. I see everything in his deep green eyes; I see that he wants this for me, that he hates what Zach did to me, and that he’s furious that my parents have this unknowing influence on me.

“What about my parents?”

His jaw tenses like he’s upset. “What aboutyou?”

My eyes close for a brief moment. I picture their disappointment, and I feel like I’m crumbling. “It’ll kill them.”

His eyes ignite, focused and furious. It’s the same look I’ve seen on game recaps, in close-ups of his face at the height of action. “They love you, and they’ll get over it.” He says it like a threat, like he’ll make sure it works out like that, and my heart beats harder. “Do you know how many people told me I wouldn’t make it?” His brow furrows with frustration. “Just ask Owens, or Miller, any other professional athlete. Anyone who has done anything bold has naysayers. Shut out those voices. The only opinion that matters is yours.”

“Your opinion matters to me,” I say, truthfully.

His nostrils flare. “Well, I know you can do it, so why don’t you listen to me?”

I want to believe him. I think I might, too. I don’t know if I’m ready to fail hard at something that matters, but there’s a tiny, stubborn part of myself that isn’t ready to give up yet.

When Jamie says things likeI know you can do it, that stubborn part thrives. Across the table, he’s studying me with a serious expression, and my heart tugs.

Jamie is so kind. I wish everyone else knew this side of him. I wonder if his ex ever saw it.

“What happened with you and Erin?” I ask softly. It’s none of my business, but I’m curious. He said he only does casual, and I wonder if it has anything to do with her. It must.

He blinks and tears his gaze away.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I rush out. “If it’s personal.”

“No.” He frowns. “It’s fine. It’s personal, but—” He looks across the table at me, reallylooksat me, and in this moment, I feel like we’re so much more than we are. “I want to tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I wasn’t sure how.” He folds his arms over his chest. “She thought she was pregnant.”

My heart stops. “You were nineteen.”

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