Blind Side(45)

“How so?”

I considered the question. “He doesn’t push me to be something I’m not. He loves me just how I am, just how I want to be.”

Clay nodded. “So what do you mean by ‘out of all of them’?”

“Mom and Dad, and then all four of my siblings.”

His eyes bulged. “Four?”

“Yep.” The word popped off my lips. “Two older sisters and two younger brothers, with me right smack dab in the middle. It doesn’t help that all of them are geniuses and talented in some super specific area. One day, we’ll have…” I held up my fingers to count them all off. “A professional athlete, a bio engineer, and two entrepreneurs selling their first business for millions of dollars.” I let my fingers drop, reaching for my fork and shoveling a bite of egg into my mouth. “And me.”

“You say that like you’re not just as amazing.”

I snorted. “Uh-huh. The quiet book nerd trying to make it in public relations. Freaking awesome.”

I gave him a wry smile, but he just frowned at me.

“You’re damn good at what you do,” he said, all serious. “It takes someone really strong and confident to boss around a bunch of student athletes — especially the bonehead ones on our team. You run the show and you know it.”

Pride swelled in my chest, but I swallowed it down along with another bite of my omelet. “Well… thank you. My mom would argue otherwise. She always wanted me to be like my older sisters — smart, athletic, modest. She hates that I don’t go to church anymore.” I paused. “But Dad gets it. He’s quiet like me, and he was always content to leave me alone when I’d retreat to my room and get lost in my books. Anytime Mom would start to berate me, he’d steer her toward one of my siblings, refocusing her.” I smiled. “We don’t really talk much, but it’s like an unspoken understanding of one another.”

“Sometimes those are more powerful than words, anyway.”

I nodded my agreement, picking up a rogue piece of avocado and popping it between my lips. “Speaking of family, everything okay with your dad?”

All emotion wiped from Clay’s face.

“I just… I heard you a little on the phone. Not much, just that it was him.”

He cracked his neck, digging into his omelet. “He’s fine.”

“Are you two close?”

He stilled, fork frozen in the air.

“Come on,” I said. “I spilled. Your turn.”

He let out a sigh, then took his first bite of the omelet. His face shifted then, and he groaned, turning to me with an incredulous look. “Thish ish delishush.”

I laughed. “English, please?”

He swallowed. “This is delicious. What’s in it?”

“Egg, basil, mozzarella, avocado, and turkey bacon.”

Clay blinked. “You’re like a fucking chef.”

“Hardly,” I said with a laugh. “And stop deflecting. Tell me all your deep, dark daddy issues.” I playfully leaned toward him like a reporter, speaking into my fork like a microphone before I angled it toward him.

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing original about them, I promise. He and my mom divorced when I was young. According to him, she was manipulative and jealous. According to her, he was stepping out on her. Who knows the truth. All I know is he had a new wife less than a year later, and a new family shortly after that.”

“New family?”

“I have two half-brothers,” he explained. “Both of whom I’ve spent only a handful of holidays with. They get all Dad’s attention, though — save for when I’m playing a football game.”

I frowned, pushing the egg around on my plate. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is. Mom and I are pretty close, though she has her issues, too. One second she’s flying high with a new guy in her life, and the next she’s…” He paused. “Well, she’s not herself.”

“What do you mean?”

A shadow of something passed over his face, his eyes on his plate. “She struggles mentally. When things get hard, when she’s alone… she turns to things she shouldn’t.”

He left it at that, letting me put together the missing pieces.

“Seems like you had a lot on your shoulders growing up,” I mused.

His eyes met mine, brows unfurling. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.” He searched my gaze. “Sounds like you learned to make it on your own pretty young, too.”

The corner of my mouth slid up. “I think I prefer it that way.”

He met my smile, but then his phone buzzed, and he picked it up quickly, frowning when he saw it was Holden before he sat it back down again.

“Something happened with Maliyah yesterday, didn’t it?” I asked.

He cleared his throat, nodding.

“What was it?”

“Ran into her after the game,” he said, sniffing. “We talked a bit.”

“And?”

He smirked at me. “Nosy.”

“Come on! I tell you everything about Shawn.”

“Fair,” he conceded, sitting back on his barstool. “She asked how I was, pretended like she cared. Tried not-so-sneakily to pry about what was going on with us,” he said, waving between me and himself. “I told her I was moving on. It pissed her off and made her jealous.”