“Why would you even ask that?” “Because you never look happy on the pitch,” I replied, readjusting my hold on my towel. Looking up at his face, I offered him a sad smile. “You never look happy anywhere.” “And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he was quick to counter, immediately on the defensive. “Watching everything I do like a fucking stalker.” “Lower the gun, Joe.” Knowing every one of his tricks, I kept my tone even when I said, “I’m not the enemy.” Joey glowered at me for a long moment before the hostility in his eyes eventually gave way to resignation. “I know.” Blinking, he
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