His eyes stay on mine, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. For a man covered in tattoos, he’s a softy with a big heart. But he’s right; he is my dad’s best friend, and they tell each other everything. Asking him to keep this from him isn’t right. But my dad’s feelings will get hurt, and I don’t want that.
Finally, he sighs before wrapping me up in a bear hug. “I don’t like this, I. Not one bit,” he says against my hair. “If you need anything, you make sure you call me. All right?”
“I will.” I nod against his shoulder, catching Hendrix staring us down.
He doesn’t smirk or seem amused. Instead, his eyes just look blank, and eventually, I pull back and look up at Brody again. I’m sure I’ll get taunted for this later—because just like everyone thinks my dad has given me all the connections, they’ll now think the same about Brody.
“Go on.” He grins, jerking his chin up. “There are a lot of people in this field house who’ve been dying to meet the infamous Isla Hardy.”
Right away, my eyes roll before I can stop them. “And why would that be?” I lift a brow. “To ask me about my dad and all of my uncles?” I cringe. “A girl, my age, asked me if you and Bria were having marital issues because she wanted toclimb you like a tree.” I pretend to gag. “And when I said no, she asked about Uncle Link and Tate and called him a DILF.”
He stands a little taller, bobbing his head up and down. “That’s right. I still got it, I.”
I smack him lightly against the chest, and he chuckles before growing stern.
“I’m serious. If you need anything—if seeinghimis too much for you—just tell me, okay?”
“I know,” I whisper. “Now, go talk to some aspiring young athletes, would ya? If you stand over here too much longer, people are going to think I’m trying to hit on you to get further ahead. And that’s just gross.”
Barking out a laugh, he winks before turning and wandering off. The second he’s gone, I’m hit with the reality that my biological father is ten feet away from me; my chest begins to tighten, and I feel like I may throw up.
My entire life, I’ve fought off the feeling that something is wrong with me. How could it not be when my own flesh and blood has never even acknowledged my existence?
When Nick is headed straight toward me, I stand here, frozen to the spot, like my feet are cemented to the ground. His eyes lock with mine, and the closer he gets, the more I see traits of myself in him. I don’t know what I’m going to say if he comes over here. Maybe he’ll tell me he’s been dying to meet me but never found the time. Or was scared. I have no idea, but I’m about to find out.
He’s two feet in front of me now, and I know that this moment is going to change my entire life—and not necessarily for the better. For my whole childhood, he was someone without a face, someone I felt guilty for thinking about. But then, once I put a face to his name, it became this deep-rooted ache inside of me as I wondered who the hell he was. And now … he’s here. Not on a computer screen, where I’m reading and scrolling through his information, but actually here.
But just before he gets to me, his eyes dart past my head, and he walks around me like I’m a ghost. Like I don’t even exist.
Because in his world … I don’t.
My heart pumps faster, and my nostrils flare as I fight off the sick feeling threatening to make me embarrass myself in front of this entire room of people.
Without thinking twice, I force my legs to carry me toward the exit, blowing past anyone who may or may not want to talk to me. I need to get out of this room. I need to get away from him.
I push the door open and walk into the hallway, passing the vending machines and water fountain.
He looked right at me and still … didn’t stop.
My chest grows even tighter, and the tears spring to my eyes now, no keeping them inside. Everyone already thinks I’m privileged because of my last name—I’m not going to be known as the crybaby too.
Quickly, I stop in front of a door and shove my hand against it, stepping into the utility closet and flicking the light on. It’s dim as hell, but I don’t care. I need to be by myself right now so I can fall the hell apart in a place where no one can judge me or call me weak.
Just as my finger goes to press the lock, the door swings further open. And while I expect it to be Brody or maybe Nora or Blaze, it’s instead someone I don’t anticipate at all. Someone I also don’t want near me anytime—let alone one like this.
Hendrix fucking Hunt.
“Not right now,” I hiss, attempting to shove him backward, but he’s a wall.
Shoving his way inside, he locks the door and stares down at me. “What are you doing in here?”
“None of your business!” I try to bark the words, but instead, my throat closes, turning them into a sob. “Please,” I croak. “Go away.”
With his back against the door, he cranes his neck as he looks at me. Once again, there’s no smirk on his lips or amusement in his eyes. I wait for it to come, but it never does.
“No.”
I’m spiraling. I can’t explain the sensation in my body right now, but I feel like I’m having a full-blown heart attack. Tugging at my shirt, I grip the fabric over my chest.
