Page 6 of These Secret Years

“I feel like I would have known that.”

“We live down by the lake. My mom’s a realtor there and everything.”

His dark blue eyes suspiciously narrow. “What does your dad do?”

A loud laugh goes up from the football players. Someone calls out, “You don’t know who his dad is?”

I’m lucky I have such a good tan from summer training because my face heats.

Sullivan glances around, his eyes wide and interested. “Wait, seriously. Who’s your dad?”

I force a smirk. “You don’t watch football. Do you?”

He gives a careless shrug. “I’m not much of a sports person.”

“Then you wouldn’t know,” I say.

Tyson deals the cards, and he glances at me with a slight grin.

“What kind of person are you then?” I ask.

“More of a music person.”

“Huh.” Now I have even more questions.

“So, who’s your dad?” he asks before I can start my interrogation.

“Oh. Eric Winters. He does color commentary for NFL games. He’s on TV a lot.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I wouldn’t know him, then. I don’t watch much TV, either.”

“He also won four Super Bowls,” Tyson offers.

“Yeah?” Sullivan asks Ty like they’re old friends.

Tyson nods as he deals the last card and sets the stack in the center of the table. “He’s a legend.”

“I do know what the Super Bowl is,” Sullivan says. Everyone listening laughs, causing the dimples in his cheeks to deepen.

My skin is tight all over. It itches from the thought that these people know him better than I do. Yeah, sure, it’s been all of three hours, and we’ve had nothing to do but shoot the shit across various card tables while we play a relatively mindless game over and over again, but I want to know what they know. “So, you’re a music major?”

Sullivan looks up from organizing his cards, and his overwhelming eyes meet mine. He nods subtly.

“Why?” I press.

“Why?” he asks like it’s an insane question, and it probably is.

“Yeah. What do you do with a music major?”

“What’s your major?” he asks instead.

I scowl, and a light scoff leaves my mouth. Why is he making this impossible? “Football.”

Everyone laughs.

“Marketing,” I add.

“Why?”