“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
He turns and looks at me. “I’m fine. Are you okay, baby?”
“That’s so like you.”
His brows knit together. “What?”
“Worrying about me first. Even when you’ll have the greater price to pay.”
“Hey. Don’t worry about me. I can handle anything Coach throws at me. I can handle it because I know you’re mine. AndI know you’ll be mine no matter what is said in there or where I end up playing.”
“I love you,” I say. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
It falls silent in the car, and the foreboding over what is about to happen hangs heavily between us.
“Let’s go talk to your parents,” Aiden says decisively.
“Okay.”
We get out of the car, and I wait for Aiden to reach my side. When he does, he extends his hand to me. I don’t hesitate. I put my hand in his.
We walk up the sidewalk to the front door. When we reach the doorstep, I pause before ringing the bell. “It’s going to be brutal in there,” I say, my stomach twisting in anxiety.
He pauses for a moment. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry you have to go through this,” I whisper.
Aiden stares down at me. “Don’t be sorry. I get to be with you. That’s all I want.”
Then he presses the doorbell as if to punctuate that point.
The sickness that has been building within me the whole night reaches a crescendo now. Aiden’s future with the Manatees is in my dad’s hands, and it’s about to play out right now, on the night before Christmas Eve.
I hear Mom in her heels coming down the marble hallway—click, click, click—growing louder as she comes closer. They stop, and then the lock turns. I grip Aiden’s hand a bit tighter as the door is pulled open.
Mom has a smile on her face, but as soon as she sees Aiden, it evaporates into thin air. Then her green eyes drop to our joined hands and she goes pale. “I knew it,” she says, her voice flat. “Iknewit.”
“Mom, this is why I asked to come talk to you and Dad tonight,” I say, my voice firm.
Mom looks like she is going to be ill. She turns and looks at me, and there’s no denying the disappointment in her eyes. “Your dad is going to be very upset,” she says in a hushed voice. “How could you do this to him? Put him in this position? Didn’t we raise you better than this?”
As soon as the last sentence comes out of her mouth, Aiden’s grip on my hand tightens. “You raised an amazing daughter, Mrs. Rivershon. One I’m willing to risk my Manatees career for, and that should tell you everything you need to know.”
“Christine, are you going to let Scarlett and the mystery man in or—” Dad suddenly appears behind Mom’s shoulder, and when he sees Aiden, shock registers all over his face.
“Good evening, Coach,” Aiden says softly.
The color drains from my dad’s face. My anxiety begins to skyrocket. Never ever have I seen my dad look like this before. Stricken. Stunned.
In complete disbelief.
“What the hell is this?” he finally blurts out. “Why are you here with my daughter?”
“I think we should all go inside and talk about it,” Mom says. “Scott, let them in.”
“If this is what I think it is, I don’t want him in my house,” Dad declares, his voice shaking with anger.
