Chapter 7 Ike #2
I look over at her—this woman who's already learned to read me so well. She's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, her tawny hair down around her shoulders. She looks beautiful and calm and completely confident in me.
I shake my head. "Aren't I supposed to be the one giving you advice and reassurance?"
She smiles, squeezing my hand. "This is a partnership, Ike. That means I get to take care of you too when you need it."
My heart thumps.
I think I love her already. I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. "Thank you."
"Always." She nods toward the house. "Now let's go. I want to see Riley's face when she figures it out."
I can't help but laugh. "I should film it."
We walk up to the front door together, and I ring the bell before I lose my nerve.
Wade opens the door, his eyebrows raised. "Hey, man. What's the big—"
He stops. His gaze slides from me to Sloane and back again.
I can see the moment recognition hits. He knows Sloane—he's seen her at practices, exchanged brief hellos on the sidelines. But he’s never really talked to her.
"Wade, this is Sloane Chandler." I settle my hand against the small of her back, and something in me settles too. "My…girlfriend." The word feels strange in my mouth. Too small for what she is to me. But it'll have to do for now.
Wade looks between us, then his face breaks into a wide grin.
"Well, I'll be damned." He extends his hand to Sloane. "Nice to officially meet you. Riley thinks the world of you and only says good things."
"All exaggerated, I'm sure," Sloane says, shaking his hand with a warm smile.
"Somehow I doubt that." Wade shoots me a look—one that says we are definitely talking about this later—but there's only amusement in his eyes, and maybe something like happiness.
"Come on in," he says, stepping aside. "I just put coffee on—"
"Dad! Who's at the door?" Riley's voice echoes from upstairs, followed by the thunder of feet on the staircase. "I thought I heard Uncle Ike's truck, but then I heard a girl's voice and—"
She rounds the corner and stops dead.
Her eyes go wide as dinner plates.
"Coach Sloane?!”
"Hey, Riley," Sloane says, casual as anything.
Riley's mouth opens. Then closes. Her eyes track to where I’m holding Sloane’s hand.
"Wait. Are you—is she—UNCLE IKE! Are you and Coach Sloane together?!”
I clear my throat. "We are."
The scream that comes out of this fourteen-year-old girl could shatter glass.
She launches herself across the room, and for a second I think she's coming for me. But no, she barrels straight into Sloane, wrapping her in a fierce hug.
"This is the best day ever!” Riley pulls back, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh my god, I knew it! I knew something was going on! The way you guys looked at each other at practice—"
"You knew nothing," I protest dryly.
"I knew everything.” She's bouncing on her toes now, unable to contain herself. "Wait until I tell the team! Wait until I tell everyone!"
"Maybe let's pace ourselves on that," Sloane laughs.
"This is so cool. SO COOL." Riley grabs my hands. "You have to come to my next match! During breaks you two can hold hands and kiss and be all gross and cute—"
"Riley," Wade interjects, "maybe give them a chance to breathe?"
"Dad, this is the most exciting thing that's happened since you bought the new TV. Let me have this."
Wade sighs the sigh of a man who's been outmaneuvered by his own child. He nods toward us. "Coffee's in the kitchen. Help yourselves."
After we grab some coffee, we all migrate to the living room, Riley chattering the whole way about me and Sloane coming over for dinners and how she's going to need Sloane's help picking out a dress for the spring dance.
I watch Sloane handle it all with grace, laughing and teasing and slipping into my life as if it’s effortless.
Wade drops onto the couch beside me while the girls debate the merits of different dress styles.
"So," he says quietly. "The soccer coach, huh?"
I nod, watching Sloane brush a strand of hair behind Riley's ear as she makes some point about accessorizing. "Yep."
Wade nods along. "You happy?"
I don't hesitate. "Yeah. I really am."
His hand lands on my shoulder, solid and warm. "Good. That’s all that matters, man."
I want to let out a breath of relief. I didn't realize how much I needed to hear that—needed his approval, his acceptance—until this moment.
"Thanks," I manage. "For being supportive….and not making it weird."
Wade snorts. "You found someone who makes you happy. Life's too short for anything else." He pauses. "Also, she's like crazy hot."
"Shit, Wade."
"What? I have eyes."
I shake my head, giving him a shove, but I'm smiling. “She is a total smoke-show, isn’t she?”
"Yeah, five alarm."
Riley's voice cuts through our conversation: "Okay, so now we just have to find someone for my dad!"
Wade's groan is immediate. "Riley. Shut it."
"What?!" She throws her hands up. "Uncle Ike has someone! Now, it's your turn!"
"I don't need my daughter playing matchmaker."
"You need someone playing matchmaker because you're clearly not going to do it yourself.“
"I'm doing just fine."
"Dad, your last date was like over two years ago."
"I've been busy—"
"With what?"
I'm trying very hard not to laugh. Wade shoots me a glare that promises retribution.
Sloane, meanwhile, has this thoughtful look on her face.
"Actually," she says slowly, "I do have a friend..."
Wade's expression shifts to alarm. "Oh no."
"She’s an English teacher, really smart and sweet—"
"Nope. No. Absolutely not."
“Please, Dad!" Riley clasps her hands together. "Please please please let Coach Sloane set you up!"
"No. Forget it."
"Ugh! You’re such a grump. And no fun at all."
“Too bad, so sad.” Wade grunts.
Sloane catches my eye across the room and winks.
I lean back against the couch cushions, as I watch my family—because that's what they are, blood or not—bicker and laugh and pull Sloane deeper into their orbit.
This right here, with Sloane already scheming to spread the happiness around, Riley bouncing with excitement, and Wade trying to fend off their efforts, is exactly where I belong.
Sloane shifts closer to me on the couch, her thigh pressing against mine. I slide my hand into hers.
She looks up at me, her smile soft, just for me. She leans close and whispers into my ear so no one can hear.
"Are you happy, Daddy?" she whispers, echoing Wade's question from earlier.
I look at our clasped hands.
"Yes, sweetheart. Yes, I am."