Chapter Twenty-Six Gavin
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gavin
November
I’m in my own personal hell: at dinner with my parents. Slowly but surely dying inside as I sit at a table in a fancy restaurant with a fancy meal in front of me and an equally fancy and incredibly overpriced cocktail to my right. I reach for it and take a fortifying gulp as I listen to my father drone on about what a disappointment I am. After I just played a great fucking game. My entire team played great. And that’s because we are great.
What the fuck does my old man know about it?
Apparently plenty if you based it on the way he’s going on. Criticizing my every move.
“You shouldn’t drink so much during the season,” Dad snaps when I bring the cocktail to my lips yet again.
I suck it down, then set the glass on the table with a thump. Spotting the server, I lift my hand, pointing at the drink once I get his attention, and he nods his answer before heading for the bar.
Thank God. At least someone is listening to me tonight.
“Did you even hear me?”
I level my gaze at my father, dread coating my stomach when I see the anger in his eyes. Why is this man so pissed off all the time? I don’t get it. “I heard you.”
“You’re in season. Training every single damn day,” he reminds me.
“A couple of drinks to celebrate our victory isn’t going to make me gain weight.” I lean back and pat my stomach, studying my father’s midsection. He’s gotten a little thick over the last couple of years, meaning he’s one to talk.
Dad snorts and takes a drink from his own glass. I shift my focus to my mother, who’s sitting next to him, her expression impassive. She never rushes to my defense. Never says a damn word, really, and I wonder—not for the first time—if my father has threatened her if she ever speaks up. Or he’s just got her so well trained, she doesn’t dare say a word to cross him.
Miserable son of a bitch. Can’t imagine my mother is happy either. They’ve been married for almost twenty-five years. That’s a big deal. A long-ass time. But why do they bother? I don’t even think they like each other.
Who likes my father? No one I know. Definitely not any of his employees. He leads by fear, and that is the last thing I want to do. My teammates like me. Respect me. I like and respect them. I am nothing without them, and I let them know that on a regular basis.
We haven’t had one of these family dinners after a game the entire season, and I was perfectly okay with never doing it again. They haven’t been around as much since he’s been so busy with work.
Dad starts rambling about our playoff chances yet again, and I cut him off, desperate to change it up. “Mom, what’s going on with you?” I ask her.
She blinks at me, seemingly startled that I’d acknowledge her. She even rests her hand against her chest for the briefest moment, like I surprised her. “What’s going on with me?”
I nod. “Uh-huh. Tell me what’s new.”
“Well ... I’ve found a new group to play bunco with. We meet on the first Thursday night of the month. They’re a great group of women. We have a lot of fun.”
“That’s nice,” I say, and I mean it. My poor mother. At least she has some friends. “You told me last time we talked that you were getting your closet redone?”
“Oh yes. And that’s coming along nicely too. Well, we’ve only got the plans drawn up, but they’re going to start working on it soon—”
“Why are we talking about this shit again?” Dad asks, sounding bored. He even yawns for good measure.
“Because I wanted to know what’s going on with Mom,” I remind him, my voice tight. My gaze shifts to hers, and I try to ignore the flare of fear I see in her eyes. “What else?”
“Oh, not much.” She waves a hand, like she’s dismissing herself, and damn, I hate that. “What about you, Gavin? How’s school?”
“Great. Doing well.” I can feel my father seething in his chair, but I don’t give a shit. Making small talk might be painful sometimes, but it’s better than listening to my dad talk shit and tell me how pathetic I am.
“You’re still on track to graduate?” she asks.
“Definitely.” The server appears with a fresh drink, and I take it gratefully, already sipping from it as he removes the empty glass from the table and rushes away. “Hopefully going to get drafted.”
Dad makes a harrumphing noise of disbelief, but I choose to ignore it. Ignore him .
“Have you met anyone?” I return my gaze to my mother’s, and I see the hope there. “Dating someone steadily?”
I think of Sienna and what we’ve been doing the last couple of months. Sneaking around and pretending we’re not into each other when we’re around our friends. Her brother. They have no idea I’m balls deep inside Sienna pretty much every night I get the chance to see her, which is often, thank God.
Though that’s such a crude way to put it. Balls deep. I care about her. She makes me smile. She makes me laugh. She makes me want to try harder and do better, and I am doing all those things for her. This woman who’s embedded herself into my life so deep, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get her out of it.
And I’m okay with that. I really am.
“I have,” I finally answer, my words coming slow. Hesitant. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now.”
“Haven’t heard a single word about that,” Dad says, like he’s trying to call me out on a lie.
“That’s because I haven’t told you.” I send him a withering look, sick of him. Sick of everything.
And missing Sienna with every fiber of my being. I’d give anything to have her here with me tonight. Sitting by my side and sending me those sweet smiles. The ones that remind me everything is going to be all right. She’d pat my thigh when she’d feel me growing tense, and I’d appreciate her watching out for me because the two people who brought me into this world never seem eager to do that.
My parents showed up at the game unexpectedly, and I didn’t get the chance to invite Sienna to come with us. And I’m glad I didn’t subject her to this painful dinner. My dad doesn’t deserve to be in that woman’s presence. She’s too good for him. Sienna is too good for me, as well, but I somehow got lucky and she seems totally into me.
“What’s her name?” Mom asks, sounding genuinely interested. Maybe I don’t give her enough of a chance. Maybe it’s wrong of me to lump her in with Dad when it comes to everything he does, but I can’t help it. They’re a team, and they always have been.
What’s weird is it’s always been a team of two versus ... me. Their own kid. I never understood that. I still don’t.
“Sienna,” I say, my heart growing lighter at just saying her name out loud. I rub at my chest, missing her like crazy.
“Coop’s sister?” My father would know exactly who she is. Great. “You think that’s smart, son?”
I take a big chug of my drink before I answer him, needing the alcohol to give me strength. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s your teammate’s sister. You aren’t going to last, so why piss that guy off when he’s on your side? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter much, considering your season is almost over.” Dad leans back in his chair, contemplating me. “Women are a distraction, son.”
As my mother sits next to him. Such a stand-up guy. “Having her brother on the team means Sienna understands what I’m going through. She gets it.”
“A woman could never understand. They don’t know what it’s like.” He lightly swats Mom on the arm with his fingertips, making her flinch. “Right, hon?”
“Right,” Mom echoes, her voice faint.
I sit up, reach for my drink, and finish it off completely before I speak. “My woman understands.”
Oh fuck. I sound like I’m growling, which I suppose I am. I hate how he just said that about her. How he dismissed my mother completely and made her agree with him. He doesn’t even know Sienna. God, he’s such an asshole.
“As a matter of fact, I’m in love with Sienna Cooper.” The moment I say the words out loud, I know I’m speaking the truth. I love her.
I do.
She’s got a good heart. An ambitious mind—she’s going to become the ice cream queen of Santa Mira; I just know it. And she’s got a great body.
Oh, and the most beautiful heart of any human being I’ve ever known. That woman—my woman—she gets me. I need her like I need air.
“That’s just your dick talking.” Dad grimaces, and Mom drops her head as if she’s embarrassed.
“No, it’s not.” I jump to my feet, eager to get the hell out of this restaurant and away from my dad. “I love her. I’m in love with her. And hopefully she’s in love with me.”
Is she? She acts like she is, but we’ve never said that to each other. I need to tell her. Right now. Tonight.
“She’s probably in love with your money,” Dad mutters, shaking his head. “You can’t trust this girl, Gavin. I know the Coopers. They’re flat-ass broke. Don’t have a pot to piss in, and I’m sure she’s latched on to you because she takes one look at you and has stars in her eyes. Well. More like moneybags.”
I’m seething, my hands curled into fists, my vision nothing but hazy red. “Fuck you for saying that about her. You don’t know her. She’s smart and ambitious and sweet. She’s fucking beautiful, and I’m a lucky bastard that she even wants to be with me. I don’t deserve her.”
Dad’s expression and his voice are both ice cold. “You better watch what you say, son. I’d have no qualms smacking you across the face for what you just said to me.”
I don’t even care. He doesn’t scare me. He hasn’t for years, but the man does know how to get into my head, and damn it, I let him every time. I need to stop.
I need to grow up and be my own man. Fuck this guy.
Glancing around the busy restaurant, I return my gaze to my father, seeing him for exactly what he is. A small miserable man who’s nothing but a bully.
“I dare you to try.” My voice is deceptively soft. “Come on, Dad. Smack me. I know you want to.”
He doesn’t move from his chair. Just glares at me, his nostrils flaring. If I’d followed in his footsteps, if I’d allowed his resentment and his anger to seep into me, I’d be a walking, talking, identical version of him, and I refuse to carry on the cycle.
“That’s what I thought,” I say after he doesn’t respond, nodding. I go around the table and give my mother a quick kiss on the cheek. “Text me, Mom. I’d like to get together with you soon. Just the two of us.”
I don’t bother saying anything to my father, and he doesn’t utter a peep either. Though I can feel his icy glare following my every step as I make my way out of the restaurant. I’m staggering a little, drunk off three expensive cocktails, and I push through the front entrance, shivering when the cold air washes over me. The restaurant we’re at is right on the water, not too far from the harbor, and I take a deep breath, the salty scent of the ocean filling my lungs.
No one chases after me, least of all my father. No apologies, no I didn’t mean what I said. I’m alone. A feeling I’ve been familiar with for years.
But then I remember I’m not alone at all. I have my friends and my teammates and my coaching staff and my girl.
Sienna.
I whip my phone out of my pocket, bring up the Uber app, and order a car, typing in that I want it to drop me off at Charley’s. The team will be there, and if I’m lucky, so will Sienna. And even if she hasn’t arrived yet, that’s okay. I can get even more drunk before she shows up. I know having her by my side will make me feel better, but I need to forget this entire dinner ever happened. And alcohol is the only answer.