“I’m not going to try and keep it a secret or anything, but if they figure out you’re her dad… then they figure it out. I’m not going to announce it or send out a newsletter or anything.” I rocked back on my heels. “It’s just nobody’s business but ours, and I’ve never shared my private life around. At least not in a long time.” Not since I’d been young and everyone had been a parent or brother figure to me.
Now… all those people had moved on with their lives, and there wasn’t a single person at Maio House anymore that I had that kind of bond with. Except Peter.
And goddamn did that make me a little sad now that I thought about it.
Time didn’t stop for anyone or anything.
I really didn’t have any true friends here left.
Jonah looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
I was over talking about this anyway. I kept going with my tour. “There are locker rooms in both buildings, but there are always fewer people in the one here. You can use either, but you’ll need a lock.”
“I’ll pick one up tomorrow,” he said.
Apparently I was wearing my nice pants today because I offered, “You can just leave your stuff in the office in the meantime if you want. Or I have a lock you can borrow too.”
Did he need to look so surprised again? “Whatever would be easier for you.”
I tipped my head toward my door and didn’t wait for him to follow me over, but he did. Flicking on the lights, I went to my desk and opened the drawer where I left the lock I let the guys borrow from time to time.
Jonah stood halfway into the office, honey-colored eyes glued to his right where Grandpa Gus and I had put up a wall of picture frames. Somehow, I could tell which picture he was looking at. It was one of a much younger me standing between Grandpa Gus and Peter, pointing at my crotch. Not my crotch actually, but at the belt around my waist, over my gi, the traditional white practice clothing you wore in judo.
“My first black belt,” I explained.
He didn’t look back at me, but I could tell his eyes moved to another picture to the side of it. Jonah tilted his head to the side, leaning in even closer. “This belt is different than the other,” he noted.
“Some people don’t know that there are different… levels. That was right after the Olympic trials.”
His head jerked back, and he blinked. “You didn’t tell me you competed in the Olympics.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t. I fractured my ribs two weeks before.”
He made the same face everyone did when I told them about the timing on my damn ribs. “Training?”
“No.” I lifted a shoulder. I had been pissed off back then. Most people had figured I would have been devastated, but, no, I’d been mad. At myself. At Noah for asking me to help him out one day when his kickboxing coach had called in sick, when he had decided to go for a leg kick instead of a punch and sidestepped too much, connecting with the corner of the strike shield I’d been holding for protection—and connecting with my ribs.
I shouldn’t have left the training facility for the weekend to go back home. I should have said no to Noah in the first place, but I couldn’t take it back. It just felt like a really dumb decision now that I couldn’t go back in time. I wasn’t mad about it anymore.
Those honey-colored eyes flicked over my face in confusion.
“Four years before that, I broke my wrist the day of the opening ceremony. The janitor in the bathroom didn’t put up a sign that the floor had been mopped, and… I busted my fucking face because I hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t react fast enough to not lose my balance. It just wasn’t meant to be for me, I guess.” I shrugged again. “Anyway….”
I stopped talking at the facial expression he was making.
“What?”
The expression eased off a little but not enough.
“What?” I asked again.
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth going up a hair. “You said that like… there was nothing special about it.”
“I didn’t even get to walk in the ceremony.”
“It isn’t special because you didn’t walk in the ceremony? All right. That makes sense.”
Was he being sarcastic?
I didn’t know how I felt about that. It reminded me of how