Nichole shrugged. “It never came up.”
“Is that why you watch every Pioneers game?” Wesley’s fingers drummed an animated beat against the seat. “Why you wear your special jersey and Pioneers socks on Pioneers’ game days?”
“I’m a fan. There’s nothing wrong with supporting my team.” Nichole kept her gaze fixed on the license plate of the car in front of her. Specific socks and a specific jersey had been Chase’s ritual before every high school and college football game. Nichole had adopted the habit for reasons she couldn’t explain now. “There are a lot of Pioneers’ fans out there who do the same thing each game day for good luck.”
“Is it also good luck because you wear Chase’s number?” Wesley asked.
Chase shifted and cleared his throat. Still, she heard his muffled laughter.
Nichole stared straight ahead, willing the light to turn green. The heat burning her cheeks spread up into her ears. Did Chase think she was a silly superstitious fan girl now?
“I have a secret,” Chase offered.
Wesley popped between the seats again, shifting closer to Chase.
“Your mom was my tutor in high school,” Chase said.
Very few people had known about their arrangement back then. Chase had passed his classes. As for Nichole, she’d gotten out of the farmhouse a few times every week and alleviated her grandparents’ concern. They’d been worried Nichole had missed all her potential high school fun spending too much time studying in her room. They’d met Chase and believed she’d discovered a social life.
“She’s supersmart. She helps me too,” Wesley said. “What subjects?”
Chase slanted a wry grin at Nichole. “All of them.”
“Cool.” Wesley flopped back into his seat.
If only everyone could’ve been as receptive back then. But there were those unwritten social rules of high school. Neither Chase nor Nichole had wanted to break them. Nichole had believed she wouldn’t be taken seriously if she’d been seen with Chase. Ironic that now Nichole knew Chase was the reason the Fund Infusion gentlemen treated their meeting seriously. After all, they’d requested a second meeting on a night that Chase could attend.
“Have you guys been talking in secret?” Wesley rushed on before Nichole or Chase could answer. “Ella, she’s the one with the walking stick and one of my best friends. Anyway, she said because Chase is famous you couldn’t tell anyone, even me. So, you had to put on disguises and make up stories to see each other in secret. Like when you dressed up as the school mascot, Mom. Remember that? You had to put on the Roadrunner costume.”
Chase covered his mouth and glanced out the passenger window.
Nichole cleared her throat. Twice. She’d been the only parent tall enough to wear the costume and march in the school parade. She could explain or keep silent.
Wesley seemed oblivious to Nichole’s silence and continued on, “Last Christmas, I told everyone what I got them for Christmas. I did the same thing for Ella’s and Ben’s birthdays too.” Wesley chuckled to himself. “I’m really bad at keeping secrets so that’s why you couldn’t tell me. Mom is really good at secrets. You must be too, Chase. ’Cause it was all one big secret, wasn’t it?”
Chase smiled. “Something like that.”
“This is so cool,” Wesley blurted. “Chase Jacobs, the best quarterback ever, is my dad. And I don’t have to keep it a secret.”
Nichole flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. She’d need more fingers soon to count all the secrets piling up. And she’d need more than hands to heft her guilt.
What happened when the truth came out? Wesley was going to be crushed. One hour with Chase and Wesley was hooked. Wesley had referred to Chase as his dad a second time. What happened if it became a habit? Nichole’s stomach rolled, twisting around the secrets, the guilt and her fears.
She’d been diligent about filling the void of no father in Wesley’s life. Had she failed? Should she try harder? Chase had mentioned nothing about wanting to be a father, not in any interview, not even in college or high school. He’d rarely talked about his own father. Always laughed off engagement rumors during press conferences. Now he had a fake marriage and pretend stepson. What had he been thinking?
Nichole had thought nothing through. Now it was an avalanche about to consume her. Once she sold her app, she’d have money. Surely money would solve everything this time. This time she was in control. She’d earned her success on her own. Wesley’s biological dad had believed money solved any problem. He’d wanted to convince Nichole the same thing. She’d taken his money, faced more problems alone and carried her broken heart like a badge. She turned into her driveway and rolled over the past to focus on the present.
Wesley gathered his backpack. “When are we moving into Chase’s place?”
Nichole stumbled and braced her hand against her car. Even more details she never considered. Their home wasn’t as large as Chase’s, but it wasn’t as empty either. Joint living had never been part of their agreement. Nicole liked her home she shared with Wesley. Chase preferred his solitude and no roommates. End of discussion.
Wesley unlocked the front door and glanced at Chase. “Your place has to be better and bigger than our little house.”
Chase stepped inside and looked around. “I like your home.”
“But your house is bigger, isn’t it?” Wesley pressed. As if bigger always equaled better.
“It’s being remodeled,” Chase said. “So, you’ll have to wait to see it until the construction crew clears out.”
Or until the pretend divorce occurred and visiting Chase’s place no longer became an option.
Wesley dumped his backpack in the entryway and raced into the kitchen. “Who wants popcorn?”
“Hey, I... I should’ve mentioned this earlier.” Chase picked up Wesley’s soccer ball and held it between his hands. “Is there any chance you might be able to take a trip?”
Disrupt her schedule. Adjust her to-do list. Not possible. Days off were carefully selected and arranged in advance, according to her budget and calendar. She never did anything
