“Of course!” I press my lips together. “I knew what I was doing?—”
“No, you didn’t, dammit.” His jaw works. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“Rod!” Mom chides. “Is now really the time for this?”
He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, seems to deliberate with himself for a moment, stares at his shoes, rubs the back of his neck, andthendeigns to meet my eye again. “You planned it?”
“I did.”
Rightdown to the soundtrack.
“Why?”
“Because I had to fix my own college career, and how better to prove to you what I can do than leading by example?”
When Mom releases a nervous giggle, I don’t break eye contact with Dad.
I’m fighting for my future here, dammit.
His nostrils flare but he grinds out, “Fine, but?—”
“Oh! Sorry, I can come back later…”
“Zach!” I cry when I see him hovering awkwardly by the door. I don’t even have time to be elated about Dad’s concession, not with my relief to see him. “What are you doing here?!”
“You think I wasn’t on the next flight when you texted me, gorgeous?” he asks, earning an approving look from Mom that I totally ignore. When he stomps into the room, she even budges out of the way, letting him lean over to press a kiss to my forehead.
Her soft sigh makes me squirm, but Zach isn’t embarrassed. He stares me straight in the eye and demands, “What’s going on? How are you feeling?”
Dad stuns me by taking over and explaining how the next twenty-four hours is going to look. Apparently, he got the full lowdown from my doctor.
When he tells me I’ll be flying home as soon as I’m recovered enough from surgery, I don’t even argue. Just nod. I’m glad. It sucks that my last week in Madrid will be in a hospital room, but that’s what I get for being a klutz.
“Rod? Let’s deal with that paperwork you mentioned before.”
“What?”
“The paperwork!” Mom prods.
Grateful, I shoot her a smile, then once they’ve gone, I exclaim, “I can’t believe you’re here. You have a game tonight!”
“You’re in the hospital, D. What else matters more than that?!”
“You shouldn’t miss a game, Zach. Not for this. I’m fine. You need all the scouting points you can get with the draft so close?—”
Cupping my cheeks, he dots kisses to them. “I love you. I’m right where I need to be.”
My heart’s in my throat. “I-I love you too. Thank you for?—”
“You never have to thank me for doing the bare minimum,” he chides, tapping me on the nose. “We’ll travel back together, okay?”
“You’re staying the whole time?”
“It’s not what I pictured when I said I’d come take you home,” he says dryly, “but of course I am.”
I squeeze his hand. “Zach?”
“What, baby?”
