Chapter 18
eighteen
Ainsley
“ D addy, hi!” I say as I open the door, completely out of breath from running around to not look like I was waiting naked in Lachlan’s bed.
“Hello, Ainsley Christine,” he says, disapproval ringing in every syllable.
It’s amazing how easily he can make me feel like I’m six and in need of a lecture.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, wishing to God I put on more than just a pair of shorts after Caspian called literally one minute ago. I didn’t have enough time for much else, and I’m still wearing Lachlan’s T-shirt.
This is so bad.
So. Bad.
“I could ask you the same,” the Admiral says as he takes in my attire.
“Well, I’m here because I’m working on an article. I told you that.”
“Yes, but you failed to mention you were staying in the house with Lachlan.”
I sigh, feeling like screaming and also still battling the desire to please him. “I didn’t know I had to mention it. He’ s Lachlan.”
“Yes, and you’re my daughter. You didn’t mention it because you didn’t want me to know. You said you were staying in a log cabin.”
“That was the original plan, and I did stay in one, but there was an issue, I needed to leave, and Lachlan told me I could stay here. I figured you’d be happy since I’m not alone in the woods.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’d prefer that to you staying in a house with a man.”
I shake my head. “Daddy, I’m staying with Lachlan and Rose. He’s not just a random guy. Not to mention, how many nights did he stay at the house when we were growing up? I’ve slept in the same house with him a hundred times, and it’s been fine.” And we just had dirty, sweaty sex in that back bedroom, but ... you know, I’m not mentioning that to him.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Oh, I don’t know, because you’re an overprotective lunatic.
I sigh and take a seat on the couch. “Because I really didn’t think it was a big deal. You and I haven’t really spoken since I told you that I was coming here for work.”
We don’t talk about anything by choice. I love my daddy. I really do, even though he’s very difficult to love.
“You don’t tell me anything, Ainsley. You or your brother.”
I want to ask him why he thinks that is or why he feels that it’s his business, but my father doesn’t believe in faults. Asking him to even consider that he has any is not in his range of possibilities.
Still, he demands honesty. It’s what I constantly combat in this relationship. Telling him the truth and how I feel or lying to soothe his fragile ego.
“We don’t tell you things because you’re often disappointed in us. You drove at ten o’clock at night to come here to what? Scold me?”
He straightens his back. “I came to make sure my only daughter was okay.”
“Daddy, be honest for a second. Do you think Lachlan would ever hurt me?”
“Of course not. ”
I raise one brow. “Well, then why did you really come here?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
The way his shoulders drop makes me sort of feel bad for him. “For twenty-six years you took care of countless men and women. Your whole life was about making sure people were safe and came home to their families. I can’t imagine it’s easy to let that go.”
I can truly empathize with him. He always believed he’d done the right thing, the noble thing. He thought if he worked hard, gave us a life that he could be proud of, that when he retired, it would all pay off.
Instead, we were grown up, my brother can’t stand him, and my mother left.
“No, it’s not.” He looks around. “Where is Lachlan?”
“He had a fire call. Rose is staying with her friend tonight.”
He nods slowly, and then his blue eyes meet mine. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be honest with me.”
“And also for us to do what you want.”
The Admiral chuckles but at least looks chagrined. “That too.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen all the time,” I say with a soft smile.
Sometimes I get to see the soft, insecure man that’s under all that gruffness.
His sigh is heavy, as though he’s letting out a lifetime of worries.
Just then the door opens and Lachlan enters. However, he doesn’t exactly look surprised at seeing my father’s car. I’m really hoping my brother gave him the same heads-up. He nods once, staring at my father. “Admiral.”
“Lachlan,” Dad says and walks over to take his hand. “Everything okay with the fire?”
“Yes, sir. Thankfully the sprinkler system did its job, so we didn’t have a real tragedy.”
I mouth to him: “Sorry!”
He gives me a wink and then looks back at my dad. “Is everything all right here? I didn’t know you were coming by. ”
My dad shakes his head. “Surprise inspection to check in on Ainsley.”
Always the Admiral.
God only knows what my stupid, drunk brother said to make him drive here. I tried to get the whole story, but he just kept telling me that he was going to date a bartender so he had beer all the time.
Which then morphed into some other ridiculous statement.
Lachlan clears his throat. “As you can see, I’ve managed to make sure she hasn’t done anything too stupid.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, because I’m just the most irresponsible out of the group of kids.”
You know, if I could go back, I wouldn’t have warned Lachlan and would have made him think we really were going to be forced to marry. That would’ve been funny.
Instead, I’m the one caught in this strange joke.
My dad shakes his head again. “I know the truth, princess.”
I grin. “Yes, Caspian and Lachlan are always at fault.”
“Well, since I know you’re okay, I should head home.”
Lachlan speaks first. “It’s late. If you want, you can stay.”
My father lifts both hands. “Absolutely not. Thank you, though. I need to get home tonight. Ainsley, the Strawberry Festival is next weekend. I assume you’ll be there?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Of course. I’ll be there, like every year.”
Dad straightens slightly. “Maybe you can see if your mother will come this year?”
Oh, Daddy. His regrets aren’t long. They really are just singular—my mother. He loved her the only way he knew how, and she was just so tired of being an afterthought.
“I don’t think she will, Dad.” My voice cracks just saying it.
“Okay. Maybe you can come stay at the house and help me with a few things?”
The defeat in his voice breaks my heart a little.
“No problem.”
He turns to Lachlan. “Take care of my girl. ”
Lachlan dips his head. “Of course, Admiral.”
I wrap my arms around my dad. “I’ll see you next weekend. I’ll beg Lachlan and Rose to come too.”
He smiles. “I’d love to see her. Your dad would too, son.”
Oh, Jesus. There goes that idea.
My dad leaves, and after his taillights are no longer visible, I let out a long sigh. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Lachlan’s heat presses against my back, and I lean against him. His arms come around the front of me, and I tilt my head up to look at him. “It doesn’t matter that I’m thirty, own my home, have a good job, and am raising my kid without help, your father fucking terrifies me.”
I smile. “Imagine how it would’ve been if he came here a few hours earlier.”
“I’d rather not.”
I spin around, my hands resting on his chest. “I can give you something else to think about.”
“What’s that?”
“While you were gone, I was lying in that bed, completely naked, thinking about all the things I wanted to do while we had the house to ourselves.”
Lachlan smirks, his hand pressing against my lower back. “Knowing your very active imagination, I’m going to assume you had some good ideas.”
“Oh, I definitely think so.” My fingertips gently scrape the exposed skin by his collar. “I wonder, though ... which one you would’ve liked the most.”
“Why don’t you give me my options,” he suggests.
“Hmm.” I gaze up into his brown eyes. “We could go back to the bedroom, and I could show you.”
“Or I could strip you down right here and see if I can guess them.”
Not a bad idea. I lift up on my toes. “We have a limited amount of time. How about we do both?”
“Be prepared to be naked a lot.”
I grin and press my lips to his and then step back. I strip right in front of him before he chases me into the kitchen, where we make very good use of the table, which definitely was my idea.
I’m so exhausted, but I’m sitting in Prose & Perk with unlimited refills and a very rough first draft.
Last night, Lachlan and I stayed up almost all night, just touching, laughing, and talking about random things and memories that have long been forgotten. We slept for a few hours before he had to leave to get Rose, and I informed him I wanted to come write.
I need to submit a draft to Mr. Krispen this week, and now that I have a game under my belt, I can at least write about that.
However, the focus of the story isn’t really about Frisbee, more about how young athletes who go on to play in college have skills that academic students alone don’t usually hone. I’m learning so much about the sports world and the different kinds of coaches. Each of the guys feel very different about their experiences which is giving me a very rich story that shows how strong and resilient they are.
I’m lost in my laptop, letting the words come, not caring about sentence structure, just needing my thoughts on paper, when I hear someone clear their throat.
I look up and see Killian there. “Hey, Ainsley.”
“Hi, Killian! It’s good to see you.”
He smiles warmly. “Do you mind if I sit?”
I nod quickly. “Of course not. Please do.”
“I know we were going to meet tomorrow, but I need to head up to our headquarters and didn’t want to stand you up,” he explains.
“Oh, no problem. Do you have a few minutes now?”
I really hope so because I need all the parallels I can get.
“Sure.”
“Great.” I grab my notebook, where I have my interviews with Miles and Everett, and glance through the questions again. “I asked the other guys the same things, but I think your situation is a little unique. You were actually drafted, correct?”
“I was. I was drafted third round into the NFL and played one season.”
Incredible. “But you consider yourself not to have played since college?”
“When I say I played one season, I mean that I was on the roster. I never stepped foot on the field during that season. I trained, got my ass kicked quite a bit, and hated every fucking minute of it.”
“Wow.” I’m honestly shocked how many of them disliked the sport once they got to this point. “Why did you hate it?”
He rubs his chin before wrapping his hand around his coffee cup. “Have you ever idolized something or someone?”
Yeah, his friend.
I nod. “I think we all have.”
“That was all I did throughout college. I went to classes, got my degree in accounting, and was really apathetic to it all. I only cared about football. Truly cared. I was that guy up at four in the morning, first in the gym and last out. Being a tight end meant I needed to be able to catch, block, run routes, be a sort of jack-of-all-trades. I was good or at least good enough to be drafted, but once I actually got there, it was like the fairy tale ended. I didn’t want to spend sixteen hours a day focusing only on football. I didn’t want the stress of being afraid during training camp I’d get cut. It’s like living on adrenaline and stress, all day, every day.”
I jot down notes and then glance up at him. “There were no good parts?”
“The good part was college for me. I loved my coaches, teammates, and that feeling of accomplishment. That was all gone once I was drafted.”
“Any idea why?”
Killian smiles and shrugs. “I think, for me, there was this drive to achieve more than anything. Which may seem stupid since once I got to a professional team, you’d think I’d want to prove myself there, but I just didn’t. I was watching these guys talk about their pay, injuries, failed marriages, kids who they never see. I have a grown adult son who I never see, and I think a lot of that was because of football. His mother became pregnant in high school, but moved without telling me about him. When I found out, it was right after the draft and I knew there was never going to be a relationship between him and me if I was always gone. What the hell was the point in that? About six months into it, my college roommate called me because he’d created this app and needed someone with a head for numbers to step in. It was the first time I felt excited about anything and it gave me a chance to know my son.”
“So you decided to leave football?” I ask.
“I think football left me.”
I lean back, trying to gather my thoughts. Nothing about these guys is what I assumed. I knew they were all successful in their current lives, but in my head they were “washed up” athletes who couldn’t hack it. So far, all of them have left by choice.
Each for different reasons.
“Do you think you’d feel the same way if the choice wasn’t yours?”
Killian stays quiet for a moment. “You know, I never thought about that. If I would be okay with this life if I hadn’t been drafted. Knowing Lachlan, Miles, and Everett, I want to say I would. I probably wouldn’t have taken it well in the beginning, but there’s a part of us that are poets.”
“Poets?” I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Not the literal kind, but athletes are all about fate, destiny, answered prayers. We live in the abstract and can convince ourselves of just about anything, regardless of the outcome. We are masters at convincing ourselves that words in the right order can make or break a play or a game.”
My smile is wide and only grows when he dips his head a little. “Superstitions and prayers are a huge part of sports.”
“I wore only one brand of briefs when we were winning. As soon as those were cursed, I would find another. My coach wouldn’t wear gold-toed socks, and if we were caught wearing them, we had to do one hundred jumping jacks to get the bad luck out of it.”
I snort at that. “I remember Lachlan always ate a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos an hour before gametime. Once, someone took his Doritos, and I thought he was going to kill. I had to literally run to the gas station to get more.”
That was the day he kissed me on the cheek, and I thought I was going to expire on the spot. Little did I know that we’d do a lot more—and hopefully will again tonight.