He draws back, stealing the breath from my lungs. “I missed you last night,” he says.
My cheeks hurt from smiling. I lace my fingers through his and go to unlock the door. “Have you got time to come in?”
Roman’s hand tightens around mine. “Always.”
Happy tears prick my eyes, and I look away before he can see them because he’ll think I’m foolish if I tell him that sometimes I still think this isn’t real. That I’m lost in a teenage daydream and I’m terrified of waking up.
I make us some coffee, and we spend the morning putting together the tables and chairs that arrived the other day. It’s the sort of domestic bliss I never thought I wanted until coming home meant walking into Roman’s arms. We’re just finishing up when the door to the shop pushes open and my dad thunders inside.
He snatches off his sunhat and points his finger at me, distress creasing his face. “Care to explain to me why I got a call from Jonty saying he saw you down by the MC talking to one of those piece of shit bikers?”
I blink at my dad, my mind playing catch up, but honestly this is on me. Six years away had me forgetting how meddlesome small-town life can be. Jonty is my dad’s closest friend and, it just occurs to me now, maybethat’swhy I recognized the SUV.
“Dad—” I start, trying to diffuse the situation.
“No.” He slices his hand through the air. “I can put up with you not calling your mother. I can put up with you moving out at the drop of a hat. But this? This is stupid. Why on earth would you go near anyone from that club again? Why put yourself back into their orbit?”
My throat clogs, my cheeks twin fires. I get that he’s scared but the judgements he’s spewing blister over me. Acid my skin.
Roman tries to protect me, stepping between us, but I’ve had enough of the victim-blaming. I move around him and glare at my father. “What happened back then was not my fault,” I tell him, my voice vibrating with the effort it takes to say those words when I don’t fully believe them.
I brush away angry tears with the back of my hand and my father deflates.
“Oh honey.” His fingers scrunch around the edge of his straw hat and he runs his other hand over his graying beard. “I know it wasn’t. I didn’t mean it like that.”
My breath falters as I try to get myself together because I will not fall apart. Not now. “I am an adult,” I say, my words steady. “Have been for a while now and you can’t just keep throwing all of your opinions at me. I had my reasons for going to the MC and you should respect that I know what I’m doing.”
“Well I don’t!” He hangs his head and pinches his temple. It’s the exact pose he’d take all through my teens every time I messed up and he didn’t know what to do with me.
I hate that we’re still here, that it’s years later and nothing’s changed. To him I’m still just that reckless kid who hung out with bikers and partied more than she studied.
“Going there was irresponsible,” he scolds, “and frankly it’s just more proof to me that you’re not ready for this.” He waves his hand around the shop. “You were back less than a month before you up and moved out on a whim and leased this place. Running a business is a huge responsibility, Lola, and you are not prepared in the slightest.”
“Enough. She is more than prepared.” Roman’s voice drops low as he steps up beside me and slips his hand into mine.
He tugs me into him and sets his burn-fury gaze on my father. “She graduated top of her class in business managementand has the best, most thorough business plan I have ever seen. Not to mention she has years of experience working in hospitality all over the world.” He shakes his head in disgust.
“I respect the heck out of you, Shaun, but I would think very carefully before you speak again becauseyouare the one out of line here, not Lola.” My dad glances between me and Roman, shock frozen in his eyes.
“You’re telling me you’re okay with her hanging around those bikers?”
The tendons in Roman’s neck flex. “I don’t like it, but I trust her, and I will not take your side with this.”
I squeeze his hand as my heart blooms for him, but he’s not done yet and I watch him like he’s a work of art, paint strokes of emotion on his face.
“You are more of a father to me than my dad has ever been, but right now, you are being a shitty father to Lola. I will forever be grateful to you for all you’ve done for me, but I am not okay with how you are treating your daughter and when it comes down to it, I will choose her. Every. Single. Time.”
My dad’s gaze finally drops to our joined hands and understanding ripples across his face. His shoulders drop, the fight leaving him on a sigh. “Well,” he clears his throat, “took you both long enough.”
I sputter.
My dad looks around the coffee shop and takes a breath, his anger draining away. His gaze settles back on me, where I’m now practically clinging to Roman’s arm. His eyes crease. “Why didn’t you tell us you went to school?” The question is tired and ragged but a glimmer of pride shines in his eyes.
I lift a shoulder. “Because I shouldn’t have had to.” I let go of Roman’s hand and look around the shop. “People start businesses without degrees all the time. Either you believe in me, or you don’t. A piece of paper shouldn’t matter.”
My dad sighs. “It’s not that simple, Lola.”
“Well it should be.” I splay my arms out in frustration before letting out a sigh of my own because I don’t want to fight with my father. I lean against one of the tables we just built. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say. “I just, I knew you’d have opinions, and I wanted to do it my way. So much of my life has been filled with judgement and I know I deserved a lot of it, but I wanted to get away from all that.”
