“Oh, shit,” she whispers. The color drains from her face. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Angela,” the tall man with brown but graying hair says.
The way he says her name is a way only a parent can say it. One when you’re about to get in trouble.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” There’s a panic in her voice. One that I feel even from three feet away.
“Don’t you remember? The anniversary party is this weekend.”
“Shit. I forgot.”
Angie’s gaze flicks to mine before returning to the group of people in front of us.
“I guess there’s a few things you forgot.” He crosses his arms. The way his biceps flex under his shirt has me shaking. This is Angie’s dad, the famed Denver quarterback?
Everything I ever heard about him was what a great person he was. I guess that doesn’t extend to people dating his daughter.
“So you decided to surprise me and show up at my door? What if I was busy?”
“Apparently you are,” the woman behind Alex whispers.
“Marley, not now,” the man next to Alex hisses. “Why don’t we take this inside?”
Finally. The first voice of reason.
Whatever happens, I don’t want to risk anyone walking out on this…shit show.
Because that’s exactly what it feels like.
With Angie and me at the center.
Angie
I swallow back the bile that’s rising in my throat. When I woke up today, this was the furthest thing from my mind.
I was just going to be working on a paper and enjoying a night with Troy.
Coming home to find my dads, aunt, and uncle on my doorstep? I never thought this would happen.
Troy and I only just made the decision to tell them about us. It’s not like we had any time to figure out the best way to do it. But finding out like this? It’s even worse.
“Angela Brooks-Young. What in the world is going on here?” Dad asks. His voice is calm. So calm, I’ve never seen him like this.
The silence is deafening.
“I…”
I have no words. Anxiety and dread are pooling in my gut. There’s no way this is going to turn out okay for us.
“Why don’t you tell us what is going on here…with Mr. Hollins?” Dad quirks a brow at me.
Growing up, I always loved that I looked just like my dad. But now, I hate seeing that anger directed at me.
“You obviously know who this is.”
“But what are you doing with him?” he snaps. Anger laces his voice.
“I think you know.” Anything other than the truth would insult him at this point.
