76

Piper

Still In Your Corner

Sometimes you meet people and they do things and you think—how could they do that? How could they do this? Why would they do that? And sometimes people tell you something and everything just clicks into place. You understand them on a deeper level. Pieces of them that were a mystery to you are presented and you understand .

The more I gazed at Adam, the more everything shifted inside me. And the more I looked at him, the more it broke my heart.

"My coach—my dad—" Adam corrected himself and I winced. "Uh…he and my mom started training me when I was—I don't know—four years old? Diet plans, exercise, the whole thing. My dad coached one of the best high schools in Texas and it was just a fact that I was going to succeed, no matter what. And I was good." Adam nodded slowly. "But my parents pushed me to be better."

Don't say anything.

I had to bite back every comment I wanted to blurt out while struggling to keep the look on my face neutral. Inside though, I was stunned. Four years old? They put a four-year-old on a diet plan?

"That was the difference between me and the other guys," Adam acknowledged, gazing out to the Houston lights. "Every new team I joined, if I was the best, my parents took me out and pushed me into something higher. If there's nobody to beat, there's no point." A humorless grin tugged up on his lips. "One time, my mom forged some documents and pretended I was homeschooled to get me on a little league team when I wasn't old enough."

Don't say anything. Don't say anything. Don't say anything.

My nails dug into my palms with the effort to keep silent. Because I wasn't even sure what I could say. Everything I could think of sounded so hollow.

"And the accident happened…and he said if I couldn't get up, I lost my spot on his team. It was everything I worked for. To have my dad as my actual coach." Adam glanced over at me. "In the hospital, my mom said, all their work was for nothing."

I took a deep breath. "And…you got back into it?"

"Oh, yeah. Ryan and I dominated our junior and senior year. We ran that fucking team." Adam chuckled, rubbing his knee. "The thing is, my parents work for their alma mater's recruitment program. And I was always supposed to go there."

But…he's at Marrs?

Adam saw the confusion on my face and he grinned a real grin. "If I would've signed on with them, my parents stood to make close to half a million."

" What? " slipped out of me before I could collect it. "Are you serious?"

"Most college athletes come from nothing, but my parents were legacy and worked with the college. Lots of underhand deals that a lot of high school kids don't get." Adam shrugged. "And then Marrs came around and Ryan pushed me to consider. Getting the royalties for my name? That's insane for college football."

It was silent for a moment and I pressed my lips together, thinking it over. "But it would've cut your parents out of the deal."

"Yeah."

Oh no.

Adam's voice was slower, more methodical. I could tell he was carefully choosing each word. "My parents told me if I declared for Marrs, I wouldn't be their kid anymore."

Oh my god .

It was the hardest thing to act like none of it affected me. I couldn't ever picture my parents doing something like that. Ever. We picked up our home and moved every couple of years for work, but I saw my parents turn down better opportunities because it would've split our household apart.

My heart hurt so much for Adam, it was difficult to keep my breathing steady.

"Now it's been…three years?" Adam frowned, thinking it over. "Yeah, something like three years since I last talked to them. When we went to the tutoring hall—" A chuckle burst out of him. "When you told me my headphones were a piece of shit, Ryan called me in. He let go of his trainer and my coach—my dad— dropped him a line to see if the job was available."

I had to unclench my jaw as my nails dug into my palm for a very different reason. Adam's dad was avoiding his kid but called his best friend?

How horrible could they be? How could they do that to Adam?

"With my scholarship, I lived out of hotels for my last semester at high school," Adam admitted. "It was pretty cool for the first two weeks, but I'd never been on my own before. And it feels…pretty good not to be alone anymore."

There was a long silence and my hands twisted in my lap. "You have a great friend group."

"Sure. Them, too."

Slowly, my eyes flickered to his.

He can't be talking about me?

A bright blush colored my cheeks and my heart thumped in my chest. The truth was, that's what Adam was for me too. When I transferred from KYU, I was so scared I wouldn't fit in on campus and now I knew that didn't matter. Because I was comfortable with the boy who stood out.

"That's it," Adam said softly. "That's all of it. There's not really anything else."

"Is your…?" I struggled with my question. "Does your dad still coach?"

"He lost his coaching job after Ryan's parents complained." He shrugged. "Last I heard, both of mine are in investment. But I don't know. I try not to look them up."

Gone was the careful Adam, the solemn Adam, and here he was again, with half a smile on his face, leaning back against the wall of the ledge. The realization hurt too. He was trying to make me feel better. Adam wanted to lighten the mood for me .

He dug into the box of cookies and took a bite. "Fuck." He grinned. "Fucking great cookies. Nice job, ice princess."

"I won't tell anybody," I blurted out.

For a moment, he was silent and he chewed thoughtfully. "You're the first person I've told in a long time. I didn't even tell Kassie, I just Ryan to do it."

My heart squeezed painfully in my chest.

"I don't tell people about it because I think…" He placed the cover on the box of cookies. "I think people think if my parents and I have a conversation, everything could be fixed. And I know you and your parents are close. And believe me—it's—it's fucking great."

He took a deep breath and a cool breeze washed over us.

"And I know you see the bright side of everything and all that stuff. And it's one of my favorite things about you. But—uh—I don't think it's in the best interest to—you know—reconcile. It's shitty to say. I get it. They're my parents. I know I should be—"

"They can kick rocks," I said, my voice a little shaky.

Adam glanced over with his eyebrows raised. "What?"

Anger rang through my words. "To put you through that when you were a child is inexcusable. They treated you like a pack mule. And I don't care if you never, ever want to speak to them again."

My breathing started coming out harder and faster. Angry tears welled up, and I hurried to brush them away.

"You didn't deserve to be treated like that." My voice was thick. "Nobody should ever treat you like that ever again. Ever."

I had never seen Adam look more shocked. He seemed unsure of what to say or what to do. He was frozen in place.

But I knew exactly what to do.

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled the six-foot-four football player down for a hug, squeezing him tight. There wasn't anything better I could give. There wasn't anything I could say. But I wanted Adam to know that even if his parents were out of the picture, he still had people in his corner.

He still had me.

But Adam didn't move.