Page 88 of Your Last First Kiss

There he is. The kid he’s supposed to be. The worries he’s supposed to have.

“Your team is going to win the championship, and I’m going to help you do it.”

“W—What do you mean?”

“If I hadn’t been trying to hurt my father when I was younger, I probably would have entered the NBA draft before my senior year of college. But that was his dream. It was mine at one point, but he pushed so hard and only wanted me for what he couldn’t do that I lost the love of the game and quit.”

“You gave up the NBA? Are you serious?”

I get it. To a fifteen-year-old, that sounds insane. But if you don’t love something with your whole heart, you can’t give it your full effort. And the NBA required all of me.

“I didn’t love it anymore, Kai. I resented it. I resented what it stood for and who it made me. I also didn’t want to make my father proud of me anymore. Once I had that realization, I quit. I didn’t want to do it for him, and I haven’t felt the itch, that buzz that goes through your body, for the game again. Until now.”

His eyes drift to the pile of ripped paper and torn banners. “My dad isn’t going to like this.”

“Probably not,” I agree. “But that’s a worry for me, not you. Whatever comes, I can handle it. And as far as this place?” We both look around the rundown gym. “Teamwork makes the dream work. Are you in?”

I stand and hold out my hand. Cautiously he does the same. His hand is tentative and limp in mine, so I release it.

“Try that again,” I say, holding up my hand a second time.

Confused, he places his palm in mine, and once again, I release it.

“Again.” This time when he puts his hand in mine, I squeeze it. “Always go into a handshake with confidence, Kai. You shake hands like you mean it. Like you belong, because you do. No matter where you are in life or who you’re shaking hands with, at the end of the day, we all put one foot in front of the other. Believe in yourself, and let your strong handshake portray that.”

He pulls his hand from mine and squares his shoulders. After a beat, he holds his hand out again. This time when our skin connects, his handshake is confident. He doesn’t try to squeeze the life out of my hand, but he does hold it firmly, and the tiniest smile tugs at the corner of his lips before he brings his eyes back to mine.

“Good. That, my friend, is your first lesson in becoming a man.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dillon. For everything.”

“Call me Dillon or Coach. Mr. Dillon sounds like a pickle company.”

As I’d hoped, he laughs, and the tension leaves my shoulders. When we turn, we find Penny and Miller watching us. Their expressions are different, but the emotion is the same.

I just built one more layer of trust.

CHAPTER27

DILLON

“Hop on,” Miller laughs, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I grumble as I sling a leg over the back of his snow machine.

“Hold on, sweet cheeks.” He guns it, and I almost topple off the back.

Dickhead.

Luckily, the ride to the lighthouse is easier this time around now that a path has been made by so many trips and a break in the snowfall.

When he finally slows to a stop, I hop off and remove my helmet. As I’m handing it to him, I ask, “Why a lighthouse, though?”

“Remy was in the Navy. When he started the TAC, he realized not everyone had a talisman to call them home. He recognized that more parents were being forced to work multiple jobs just to survive, and many of the kids in this area seemed lost. He’s always told the town that the lighthouse was a safe place to center yourself when you feel lost at sea. I have no idea how many people he’s taken in over the years or how many people he’s helped get back on track, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s in the hundreds, and they all came here first.”

“Do you know why he does it? Why he gives so much of himself?”

Miller shrugs and looks at the lighthouse. “Because he can. After the Navy, he became a mechanical engineer who created a device that helped release certain weapons remotely. He knew enough to trademark it, so when the Navy came calling, he cashed out. He does what he can because I think, like you, it was something that was missing in his life.”