“I trust you.” The statement delineates the fine line Ian and I are always treading. My father might want to put us on different sides, but something tells me we’d build a bridge between us.
My father dips his head and goes to help the others.
Ian slants him a hard stare and starts to move when I rush to say, “You know what I meant.”
His back stiffens, but he returns to his duties.
I am all over the place, my clumsiness reaching a perilous level. I drip food on myself as I steal glances at Ian. I swallow the yelp when the hot liquid seeps through the fabric, searing my skin.
Focus, I urge myself, wishing for time to pass faster. Otherwise, I don’t know if I’ll survive.
Once done, the three of us walk outside in stilted silence.
My father says, “Where’s your car?”
Oh shit.
“We came together,” I squeal.
Good god, I’ve never been this nervous, not even when I brought my first boyfriend to introduce to him. My father’s expression tightens, and Ian says, “Nice seeing you, Coach.” Then he turns to me, expectation clear in his intent stare. “Are you ready to go?”
My body tightens, aware of what he’s doing, and he’s not shy about letting me know.
I rummage through my small bag searching for my sanity, and say, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have my dad drive me home.”
So lame that I wouldn’t mind if the ground would open and swallow me whole. It would be more merciful than facing the man I want and the one who would never accept him as my boyfriend.
Our hands brush in a handshake. Electricity sparks, my insides erupting into a firework. I expect to explode in neon colors right on the sidewalk, flashing every forbidden thought and hidden desire.
His jaw sharpens, and I half expect him to cut through my bullshit. Dipping his chin in a nod, he gets in his car and drives away.
I hop in the car with Dad. He’s silent as we head toward my apartment.
“Dad, we’re friends. Just friends.” I insist, the guilt churning in my stomach.
His lips tighten into a harsh line. “I know what I saw.”
“What did you see?” I ask in a high-pitched tone, making me sound even guiltier.
“That’s not the way friends look at each other.”
“I promised I wouldn’t date a player of yours.”
Keep your promise.
Reaching my building, my dad parks along the sidewalk and turns toward me. His eyes, shining with unconditional love, seek mine. “You’re my baby girl, and I want only the best for you. Life with a player might feel exhilarating, but you’ve been so adamant about stability. I know it’s partially my fault, but his career is just beginning.” He drags a lungful of air, and expelling a long breath, he continues, “I can’t say he’s not a good guy, but I know him as an athlete. There will be temptation and public scrutiny. It can either go spectacularly well or spectacularly bad.”
I wave his concern away as if I am not thinking about Ian and me together every second of every day. “I know, Dad. Trust me. We’re friends. I like him just as a friend.” The more I emphasize this point, the more I get the impression no one is going to buy it. While it’s the truth, it’s also a lie. He’s a friend I would like to fuck and gamble my heart.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, eyes glistening.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say and peck him on the cheek before exiting the car.
Something shiftedbetween Ian and me after the encounter with my father. It’s been four days, and we haven’t seen each other or texted.
I always find a lily on my doorstep, and I leave a shot at his, but it’s not enough. The withdrawal drags my heart into the pits of hell, leaving me there to boil in sheer agony.
I curse when I realize the juice trickles over the glass, fully unfocused. Nancy notices my distraction and says, “I can take over.”
