I sit up too quickly, and the sheets slip over her hips, revealing her perfect fucking ass. I groan, sliding my thumb across the screen, answering my coach’s call when his daughter mutters at the disturbance as she rolls to her side.
Oh, I’m fucked. I’m so fucked.
“Hello?” My voice is gravel.
“I’m not coming in there because I’m afraid of what I’ll find,” he grumbles. “But you have thirty fucking seconds to get your ass outside or I’m pulling you from that Challenger.”
“Coming,” I choke.
Willow giggles into her pillow. Leo grunts as he hangs up.
“You’re trouble,” I murmur, pressing a kiss into her mess of hair. She turns, peering up at me with those soul-crushing blue eyes, an amused smile playing at her lips. Brushing her cheek, I whisper, “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Her brows furrow, and she shakes her head. “Don’t be. Surfing is a priority, Weston. I won’t ever ask you to change that. I’m sorry I kept you up so late you overslept.”
“Don’t be,” I whisper, kissing her slowly, savoring the moment. “You’re a priority too—it’s not your fault I didn’t set my alarm.”
I peck her lips once more before leaping from the bed. As quickly as possible, I change into a pair of swim bottoms and brush my teeth, grabbing my wetsuit from the basket of clean laundry outside my bedroom before pausing in the doorway to get one last look at Willow.
She’s still in bed, no rush to move, surrounded by pillows and scrolling through her phone. She must feel my stare, because she stops before glancing in my direction. “You better get out there, Killer.”
“You look good in my bed, Trouble.” An effortless smile spreads over my cheeks. “Wish I had a photo of it.”
“You’re late,” she sing-songs with a laugh, blowing me a kiss.
I’m grinning like a goddamn fool as I step out of the house and shuffle down the porch steps, though it falls when I round the railing and find Leo Graham standing at the edge of the staircase that leads down to the cove, frowning at me.
“I’m sorry.”
His nostrils flare. “I know.”
Without another word, he begins descending the cliffside with both of our boards in hand. The morning passes much the same way. Curt direction from Leo, demand to complete specific maneuvers or pay better attention to my form, hard encouragement to try again when I fail.
At the end of our session, we wade out of the waves, and he hands me a water bottle as I toss my board into the sand.
“I think you have about the best reason on the planet to be distracted right now, which makes what I’m about to say difficult,” he mutters, gaze fixed on the blue horizon. “My concerns over this budding relationship go farther than just being protective over my daughter. I asked you weeks ago if you were serious about this, and you promised me you were. You promised me focus. This isn’t focused, Weston.”
“I—”
He holds up a hand. “I can’t tell you that you’re too good to be distracted by some girl, because that girl deserves dedication. I can’t allow her to settle for less than that. I can’t even tell you that I blame you, because I think she’s worth far more than surfing or titles or gold medals ever could be, and I don’t want her to be with someone who wouldn’t agree with me.”
“She is.” I nod rapidly. “She is worth more than that.”
“Do you see what position you’ve put me in?” He rubs the tension out of his jaw, sighing. “I don’t want to waste my time on an athlete who isn’t serious about their craft, and I sure as fuck do not want my daughter wasting her time on a man who isn’t serious about her.”
“I can be both.” The words rush from my mouth before he has the chance to question them. “Today was a slip up, and you’ve got every right to be concerned, but it won’t happen again. Willow won’t let it happen again, either. She’s as invested in my surfing as I am.”
“And who’s invested in her, Weston?”
“Me.” I tap my chest. “I swear to you, I can do both. I can do surfing and I can do Wi—” He shoots me a glare. “I can be there for Willow too.”
“What happens when she goes back to college? When you go on tour? What do you plan on then?”
I huff, dropping my gaze to my feet as a hand comes to my neck, rubbing out the tension there. “We haven’t exactly discussed that yet.”
This is new—especially for me, I’ve never even been on a date—and it’s scary for both Willow and me, and I wish I didn’t have to explain that to her fuckingdad.
“Willow’s been through...” He pauses, and I look up to find him shaking his head, pacing the sand in front of me. “It’s been hard. She’s still going through it, and...”
