He’s actually doing it. He’s going to carry me to his car.
“No! You’re going to hurt yourself. Put me down.”
“Your old man’s not as ancient as you think,” he says wryly. “This is for your own good.”
“Stop! I haven’t even brushed my teeth! I’m in my pajamas. I don’t have a bra on.”
“Melina’s bringing you some clothes, and?—”
I have the fingers of my right hand curled around the door frame and I’m holding on for dear life. This is a nightmare. Not only because he wants me to leave the safety of this bedroom for the next four days and nights, but because I still have a shred of pride left. I don’t want his team and staff seeing me like this.
With a twist of his shoulders, my fingers fly off the wood doorframe.
“I’ll go on the next one, I promise. Don’t do this!”
“It’s nonnegotiable.”
I grab the stairway handrail, holding on so tight my knuckles burn. “No!”
“I tried the easy way.” There’s a note of strain in his voice as he tries to pull me away from the rail. His tone quickly switches to aggravation. “You want us both falling down these stairs? Let go.”
“Don’t do this,” I beg. “I can’t be around people all the time. It’s exhausting. It’s why I left my job.”
He stops pulling. “You’re depressed. I get it. Seeing you go through this has been hell.”
“Then let me have some peace! You’re the one person I thought would have my back.”
He huffs a note of unamused laughter. “This is me having your back, Tally. I’m not letting you turn into a bitter old cynic like me.”
That gives me pause. He doesn’t say much about his divorce from my stepmom, but it had to be hard. She left him for the contractor who was renovating their home, and he was blindsided by it.
Maybe sincerity will sway him. “I truly don’t want to go, Dad. I know I need to get out more, but I want to do it slowly. This is too much.”
He shakes his head. “I really am planning to put you to work. You won’t just be along for the ride. Contributing to something bigger than yourself is what you need.”
I groan. “Don’t coach me. Just be my dad.”
After a pause, he says, “I am.”
He’s so damn stubborn. Always has been. I may have gotten a little bit of that trait in addition to my mother’s temper.
“Fine,” I snap. “Go ahead and embarrass me in front of your team. sounds super therapeutic. But let me brush my teeth and put some clothes on.”
He walks back up the stairs and sets my feet back on the floor. “You’ve got ten minutes.”
The Crush’s team plane has the team logo on each side. The logo is a scowling Viking-looking man making a tight fist. I guess he’s supposed to be crushing something.
I’ve never been on this plane, but I’ve been on other team planes with my dad. When I was a teenager, I jumped at the chance to go anywhere and do anything with him. I didn’t get to see him much because of his work schedule, but during his offseason, he always prioritized time with me and Audra, including us in vacations with him and Angieand their two kids, and also taking each of us on a trip for alone time with him.
The Crush’s plane is a lot like the others. There are fewer seats, and each one is wide and upholstered in leather. Some of the seats recline into beds, and there are tables and chairs where players can eat or play card games.
I managed to get a quick shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and throw a few things into a bag. We rode to the airport in silence, because I’m still in a mood over being forced into this.
“Hey.” The team trainer, Melina, gives me a little wave as I’m stuffing my bag into an overhead compartment at the front of the plane, where the coaches and staff sit.
“Hey,” I say softly.
I slide into a window seat in an unoccupied row, playing a game on my phone to avoid having to look at or talk to anyone. It’s not that I dislike anyone on the team—other than Lucien after last night—but my heart is racing from having my routine upended, and I need to decompress.
