First to Fail (Unraveled #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,29

out.” I sounded whiny, but I was allowed to. I was sweaty and my paint was streaking. My tights hadn’t had a long life expectancy, but they were toast after that fall. A huge rip went from my knee to under my shorts.

“You’ve mentioned that a time or three.” Chris’s deep voice was a verbal massage my entire body felt. It’d been a month since we’d seen each other and three weeks since I’d last talked to him on the phone. I’d counted every day.

What was he doing at the game?

Oh. Jaycee was with her grandparents.

I snuck a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. It was worth the twinge in my temples to see his profile. Borderline shaggy hair spilled over his forehead and his lips were in a stern line. The concentration he aimed at the road sent my nerves stumbling over each other. The face he gave the rest of the world was congenial, aloof at times. Always easygoing. But he could be intense and focused at the best of times.

This wasn’t the best of times and he was still hot.

He glanced at me. “How are you feeling?”

“No different than the last time you asked.” I shifted the ice pack off my head and set it on my shoulder.

“That player had it out for you.”

“Yep. I’d swear she was bought off by one of the students, but no one knows I play.”

He flashed a smile at my joke. “Is her thing to go after the noobs?”

I nodded, pleased that my head didn’t start pounding.

“What would you have done if I wasn’t there?”

Wasn’t that the question of the day? As if I hadn’t been panicking about facing the medical gauntlet on my own until I realized I could refuse treatment.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“Why are you so secretive, Natalia? I don’t get it. I mean, I get your job. But with your whole life?”

“How do you know I’m secretive outside of work?”

“Do your parents know about cosplay and derby? Ms. Branson?”

“Ms. Branson’s an employee, so no. And no, my parents don’t know.” My mom’s reaction would be ten times worse than when I had joined the Star Trek club as a senior. I had meant to stick it out, but when the car had gotten taken away and my bank account suspended, I’d submitted.

Clubs based on fiction are useless in our nonfictional world.

Thanks, Dad. It was one of my first lessons in keeping my private life top secret. I needed to be taken seriously for the stellar work I did, not the hobbies I enjoyed.

Chris’s house came into view. A welcome sight. I’d prepped for a long night of ice and acetaminophen in my empty townhouse, but Chris’s home was so much more…homey.

I’d rather not talk about my nonexistent social life. “Have you lived here long?”

“I cashed in a savings account when Jaycee started living with me full time. The place I had before…” He shook his head. “Pretentious condo in the heart of yuppie city. I don’t think one other child lived on the whole block.”

Well, didn’t that describe my place?

“My parents moved to Arizona ten years ago,” he said. “Cierra’s apartment at the time was as big as a phone booth. Cierra’s parents live in a mansion that Jaycee can’t paint, color, or get rowdy in, so I thought a traditional home would be better for her.”

“It’s nice.”

He chuckled as he pulled into the garage. “Nice. I guess that’s all I can ask for.”

“It’s more.” He parked and the garage door shut behind us, but I didn’t make a move to get out. “My place is…expensive. Trendy. Contemporary. The only reason I look forward to going home is because my king-sized, deluxe-pillow-top bed is there. And my TV. It takes up half a wall.”

“Well, let’s get you inside before you remember my TV gets lost in the wall.” He got out and I did the same. “Do you need fresh ice?” he asked as he retrieved my gym bag from the back seat, leaving my bag of gear behind. My tendency to overpack had worked in my favor for once. It was my first scrimmage, and I hadn’t had many practices. My Valaria costume might be fitted from neck to ankles, but my jam shorts were…short. And my tights managed to show more than they covered. If I hadn’t worn so much padding, I would’ve been blushing down to my knees, and cosplay assassins shouldn’t blush.

“This baggie is still good, but I could