“Thank you.” I fold my arms over my chest. “If you wanted to know, I don’t use algebra at all in my daily life. Geometry and angles? Oh, yeah. But algebra? It’s kind of bullshit.”
Liv grins. “That’s what I thought.”
I chuckle. “What do you want to do for dinner?”
“Maybe some soup? And I can chop the onions?” she asks, batting her eyelashes. “Please?”
“Okay, Gordon Ramsey. We can make that happen. Can I talk to you about something first?” I ask. “It requires you putting your phone down for fifteen minutes.”
“Okay.” Liv’s smile fades to a grin. “What’s up?”
“I, uh, hang on. I’m trying to figure out how to word this without making it weird.”
“You went with me to buy my first bra. You pick up tampons for me. Is any of that weird?”
“No. That’s the bare minimum.” I sigh, taking the seat next to her. “Okay, look. You were much younger when your momand Bryant got together, so I’m not sure if you all talked about anything like this, but I wanted to get your opinion on dating. Specifically, me dating someone.”
“Oh, my god. I knew it. Iknewit! That’s why I’ve been spending more time at Mom’s. That’s why you’re always smiling at your phone. That’s why there’s a candle in the living room.” She hums. “And I know who it is. I’ve known this whole time!”
“You do?” I freeze. “How?”
“Comeon, Dad. You show up before my lessons are finished when you used to wait in the car until I was done. You charted a freaking plane to DC so you wouldn’t miss Hannah’s competition.” Liv holds up a hand and starts ticking off items on her fingers. “She came to a game and woreyourjersey. You’rehappyhappy.”
I rub a hand over my chest, trying to stop my heart from racing. My fingers moves to the tattoo on my arm, the figure skates wrapped up with a pretty ribbon.
I amhappyhappy because Hannah makes me that way.
Must be pretty fucking obvious if Liv is noticing too.
“How does all of that make you feel?” I ask, trying to broach this topic as tactfully as possible. “I know I’ve never brought a woman around before, and?—”
“I figured that’s because you hadn’t met the right one yet. Fireworks, right?” She giggles. “Do you think I’d be mad? Dad. IloveHannah. She’s so freaking cool and nice and so pretty. Wait. Is it serious between you two? Is she moving in?Areyougoingtopropose?”
The last question comes out in a rush of words, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
I know the interrogation is part of the process of telling a teenager I’m dating someone they like, but it also makes me sweat. It’s forcing me to confront my feelings, and,no, I’m not proposing, because Hannah has made it clear that’s notsomething she would be interested in, but itisserious, and Iamtrying to find the right word for it.
How do you describe the person you look for in every room?
How do you describe the person who is the best part of your day?
How do you describe the rush of adrenaline you get when she touches your hand?
How do you describe the peace you feel when she’s in your arms?
How do you describe the way you’d do absolutely anything for her and ask for nothing in return?
I don’t have a lot of practice with it, but every day I wake up with Hannah next to me, the definition narrows down to a single word.
Love.
I fuckingloveher, and I grin at the revelation.
“Yes,” I say, holding up a hand when she opens her mouth to scream. “It is serious, but the rest of your questions don’t apply. I’m not rushing this because I care about her very much. This is new territory for me, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
“Dad is inlove,” Liv squeals, spinning on her stool with her arms out at her sides. “I’m so glad you don’t care that she’s younger than you!”
“What do you mean?”
