I meekly get into his SUV, and as soon as he’s in the driver’s side, he moves the vehicle to his reserved parking spot right near the entrance to the building.
“I couldn’t believe it when I drove up,” Dad says. “I saw you sitting on the sidewalk, I did a double take. Then I noticed Aiden next to you and Wyatt standing over you. I’m glad they were there.”
“I am, too. I was coming to shoot some pictures for fun today,” I explain. “I didn’t intend to get an injury from an iguana landing on me.”
He chuckles at that. “It’s a first for me. Of all the things I’ve worried about for you, getting hit in the head by an iguana was never one of them.”
“Dad, you don’t have to worry about me at all.”
He gives me a side-eye as he turns off the engine. “Scarlett, I will always worry about you. You’re my little girl, no matter what the candles on your birthday cake say.”
“Dad, outside of the falling iguanas, look at me. I’ve got my own place and a professional job.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m always going to worry about you.”
My stomach slides a little bit. If he were going to go through a list of things that would worry him, I’m sure dating a hockey player would be in the top ten. Growing up, he always warned me to stay away from the players. I know my brothers carried out that idea by always telling their teammates to stay away from me.
I’m going to have to prove to him I don’t need to be saved from Aiden, or evenbyAiden.
I have to prove to him I’m strong, intelligent, and when I made the decision to date Aiden, it was the right one. I’m in control of my life, I’m taking care of myself, and when I decided to date Aiden, it was because he added something to it I wanted.
Of course, it would be helpful to prove this point by knowing to look for falling iguanas when the weather gets cold and not being taken out by one, but Rome wasn’t built in a day, either.
“Come on, let’s go see Jones,” Dad says, getting out of the car.
I gather my things and follow him inside the building.
And grow even more determined to prove to my dad I can take care of myself.
* * *
I wait for Aiden after practice. I got a few small stitches put in my head, was given an ice pack, and Jones—Dr. Patricia Jones, team physician—told me I didn’t show signs of a concussion, but gave me things to watch out for. It’s an unnecessary list, as I’m well-versed in concussion protocol thanks to my dad and brothers. I always made sure Ethan and Jamie followed it when they had head injuries, despite their protests over being taken off the ice.
I was determined to take pictures today, and by some miracle, my camera came through the incident unscathed, so I did exactly that this morning. I got some great ones of Aiden, so it was well worth fighting through my headache to be able to take them.
But apparently my iguana incident was the talk of practice, and as the players come off the ice, I’m asked about it repeatedly.
Mortifying is definitely my word of the day. Now I’m a legend with the team for getting hit in the head by a shocked iguana.
Fabulous.
Finally, Wyatt, Beckham, and Aiden are the last to leave the ice, and they all stop to talk to me. Aiden’s gaze immediately shifts to my forehead, and I’m sure my lump is a glorious shade of purple by now. He winces when he looks at me.
“You really took a hit,” he says softly, gripping his hand harder on his stick.
I suck in a breath. He’s gripping his stick harder because he’s fighting the urge to touch me.
Maybe getting hit in the head by a falling iguana has some perks after all.
“I’m just glad the second iguana didn’t hit me. I think he could have knocked me out,” I joke.
“For the record? I hadn’t heard of this either,” Beckham says. “I’m going to have to give Georgie a hard time for not preparing me.”
“Look at you, casually dropping in the name of yourgirlfriendwhenever you get a chance,” Wyatt teases. “You’re down bad.”
“As you will be when you finally get a girl,” Beckham retorts.
Wyatt snorts. “Not happening.”
