Ruby had declared that we wouldn’t play. Her mom had seconded that motion. Even Bobby had looked ready to pack it in, if only to get me away from his daughter. But there was no way I was letting Bobby fucking Morgan think he’d scared me off again.
I had hoped to never see him again. How was I dating his daughter?
It’d been big news when he’d gotten some girl in Bozeman pregnant, and I’d heard he didn’t have much to do with the mom. After graduation, he’d lit a path out of Bourbon Canyon and hadn’t returned. The last two years of school after he’d moved were the best two years I’d had since he’d first moved to town. I’d thought I was finally free of him.
Until today.
Ruby’s goddamn dad.
“Any day,” Bobby taunted. “Unless you’re waiting for my daughter to get older.”
I cringed and bounced the ball. Inhale. Bounce. Exhale.
“Dad, stop it.” Ruby’s voice was filled with disappointment and exasperation.
“Robert, knock it off.” Veronica’s tone matched her daughter’s.
Inhale, bounce, exhale. Ignore him. Like I had always done. I’d proved I wasn’t the weaker one. I’d been able to endure his teasing. Yet it hadn’t mattered. I just got those sympathetic stares. Those pitying looks. No one had seen me. They had just felt sorry for me.
Then Katrina had happened. She’d seen me. And I’d gotten thoseso sorrystares again.
I served. The thunk on the racket rang loud in my ear and the serve went wide. Fuck.
Bobby stuffed an index finger into the air. Even his signal for out was obnoxious.
Veronica retrieved the ball and tapped it back to me with her racket.
I caught it. Ruby cast a worried look my way. Did she want me to throw the game?
Or was that sympathy darkening the blue of her irises?
Everything I’d eaten for the last month curdled in my gut.
Memories scraped over my skin. The old feelings of being a spectacle. I was a grown goddamn man, but my childhood tormentor was right in front of me, targeting my weaknesses like he always had. Only this time my weak spot was Ruby.
The crawling sensation from being watched prickled over my skin. We had no spectators. It was just memories fucking with me.
I counted to five on my exhale. Relaxed. I called on the distance I used to find when Bobby confronted me. My fingers tightened around the yellow ball. If I didn’t ease up, I’d crush it.
He scuttled side to side, waiting for me. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re still old enough to be her dad.”
The ball hit my finger on a bounce and almost got away. I fumbled but caught it.
“Dad,” Ruby snapped, “we’re leaving if you keep doing that.”
Bobby held his arms out. “What? Am I wrong?”
It was a thirteen-year age difference. Wynter and Myles had almost the same gap.
But Wynter had been a little older when she reconnected with Myles, and?—
Dammit! He was getting in my head.
“It’s not right, Robert.” Veronica’s mouth was tight. “And you know it.”
Bobby dipped his chin down, his jaw sawing back and forth. Miracle of all miracles, he kept his mouth shut.
I ground my molars again and pictured the most perfect serve right to the corner and bouncing to the side. A nearly impossible hit to return. “Three–two,” I called and served again.
