Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(46)

Tension grips me again and my head snaps up.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, gliding his hands along the tops of my shoulders. “Tell me.”

I struggle to find the words. I don’t want to talk about it, but he asked, and…it’s Jacob. “They’ll be disappointed. Every time I don’t do as well as Elisha, they’re disappointed. They’ve paid a lot of money for me to come here, and if I don’t do it…well, they won’t hate me, but I can’t stand the thought of letting them down. Of being less in their eyes.”

I hear a low growl in his throat. “That’s bullshit.”

I close my eyes. “I’m sorry. But it’s true.”

“You aren’t less than your sister.”

“Sure I am.” My throat tightens. “I just want them to look at me with the same kind of pride they do her. I want them to brag to their friends about both their smart daughters, not just one.”

“They f*cking do that?” His hands go still.

“Yes. They probably don’t even realize it. All I ever got growing up was, Your sister got an A in this course. Your sister was the class valedictorian when she graduated. Your sister got a full scholarship to Bayard, and then Harvard.”

“Christ.” His hands go still on my shoulders. “Your sister sounds pretty damn annoying.”

I choke on a laugh. “Well, yeah, but she wasn’t doing it on purpose. She’s just a super overachiever and my parents apparently wanted two kids like that. Even my A wasn’t as good as her A+. I got a partial scholarship because I busted my butt, but it’s still costing my parents a lot of money to send me here and they never let me forget it, always reminding me they didn’t have to pay for Elisha to go to Bayard. Last year when I told them I’d flunked two courses and would have to take them over, they were so upset. I stayed here all summer to take the classes again. I worked so I could pay for them myself, to try to make up for flunking. And so my parents would keep paying for me to come back this year.”

Jacob makes a low noise in his throat.

“That’s why I have to do it. They’ll consider it a waste if I don’t become a doctor.”

“I can’t get my head around that. They should be proud of you no matter what you decide to do. And you’re not your sister, you’re a different person. You should just be yourself, Sky. Because you’re pretty damn amazing. And they should want you to be happy.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard them say that. I swallow through a tight throat, my chest aching. “Do your parents want you to be happy?”

“Yeah.” He pauses, his fingers still working on my less-tight muscles. “They’ve done a lot for me so I can achieve my goals.”

“To play hockey.”

“Yeah. Hockey costs money. They don’t have a lot, but they made sure I had equipment and registered for minor league hockey. We lived just outside Kamloops, so when I got older, there were hours of driving back and forth to games and tournaments. Then when we realized I was actually pretty good, they let me move away from home when I was sixteen. It was hard on them, especially my mom. They sacrificed a lot.”

I nod, my throat squeezing.

“They also believe in me,” he adds quietly. “Which is the best thing of all they could give me. Last year, I kinda screwed up and they still supported me.”

“Your parents sound awesome.”

“They’re coming in a couple of weeks. You can meet them.”

“Ah…for your birthday?”

“Yeah.”

Meeting Jacob’s parents sounds like a “real girlfriend” thing to do. Also celebrating his birthday with him is a “real girlfriend” thing to do. This is awkward. But I don’t say anything right now.

“How’s that? Better?” He lays his big hands on my shoulders.

“So much better.”

He lowers his hands to give my boobs a squeeze.

“Jacob!”

He laughs as he drops back into his seat. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. And you love it when I fondle your boobs.”

I smile. I really do.

He leans forward and I meet his eyes. “Seriously, Sky. You should be doing what makes you happy. Not what will make your parents happy.”

I gaze at him as I process this. “But they’re my parents.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

But he has a point.

“You know what you should be doing?”

I shake my head slowly, my eyes fastened on his.

“Teaching. You’re an amazing teacher.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“The training you did. I told you before how you rocked it. You were so great.”

I shrug. “I didn’t even know what I was doing. It was my first time.”

“See? You did know what you were doing. You were reading everybody in that room and adjusting what you did to hold their interest. You got everyone comfortable and involved, even when it wasn’t a super comfortable topic. You were funny and…engaged…and…” He appears to search for words. “Human.”

I smile. “Human. A high compliment.”

He grins. “You know what I mean. There are teachers that are intimidating. Sometimes they don’t seem like they’re really human.”