Chapter 23
Ash
It’s the Monday after Thanksgiving, and Gray warned me this week is always crazy at the university.
There are only a few weeks left in the semester, and everyone is rushing to write final papers or cram for exams, so Gray’s office hours are in high demand.
She’s answering emails at all hours of the night, and one of her grad students is also defending her dissertation, so she’s helping with that as well.
I’ve just gotten to the arena and dropped my stuff at my locker for our game today when my phone rings. It’s the guard station at the administrative entrance.
I frown. I wasn’t expecting Gray today, but the guards have approval to let her in whenever she comes, so I’m not sure why they’d be calling me. Unless it’s a new guy who doesn’t know her yet?
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hello, Mr. Gunnarsson. It’s Ben down at the guard station,” Ben says. So not a newbie.
“Hi, Ben. Is there a problem?”
“There’s someone here asking to see you. Says his name is Raymond Mackey. Do you want me to have someone escort him up?”
My stomach turns over. Raymond Mackey. Gray never told me her father’s name, but I’m a hundred percent sure this is him.
“Yeah,” I hear myself say. “Um…bring him up to the press room.”
“Everything okay?” Kelsier asks as I hang up the phone. He pulls up his hockey pants and sits down to put on his skates.
“I think Gray’s dad is here.”
His head snaps up again. “What? Are you sure?”
“Ben says Raymond Mackey is here to see me.”
Kelsier is quiet a moment. “And you’re sure he’s not just some guy here to talk to you about a sponsorship or something?” His eyes widen. “Wait, are you sure she’s not married? What if he’s her husband?”
I give him a ‘Don’t be ridiculous’ look, although now there’s a small doubt in my mind.
“What did you do to warrant a visit from her father then?” he asks.
I shake my head defensively. “Nothing.”
Well, mostly nothing. Yet…
“You want me to go with you?” he asks.
“No, I’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m sure he just wants to meet.”
“Good luck.”
I head out the door and take the stairs up a floor before I head into the press room. It’s still empty, so I sit down in the front row of seats to wait. It’s a few minutes before a guard named Pedro leads an older man into the room, and I stand.
“Thanks, Pedro,” I say, and he gives me a “No problem” as he leaves.
I turn to the other man. He looks to be in his mid-to-late fifties, about six feet tall, a little round around the middle, but still relatively fit for a man his age.
The resemblance to Gray is subtle, but I see it now that I’m looking for it.
He wears a baseball cap that has, “Grumpy Old Veteran” embroidered on the front.
I hold out a hand. “Mr. Mackey,” I say. “I take it you’re Gray’s father? It’s great to meet you.”
Raymond takes my hand and shakes it. If his grip was any harder I’d think he was trying to intimidate me, but it’s only firm and sure.
“Mr. Gunnarsson,” he says. “It’s good to meet you as well. I’m not sure when my daughter plans to introduce us, so I wanted to stop by briefly to meet you myself. I won’t keep you long.”
“Does…Gray know you’re here?”
He smiles as he lets go of my hand. “No, and let’s keep it that way if you don’t mind.”
I raise a brow. “You want me to lie to your daughter?” I ask. “This feels like a test that I’m screwed on either way.”
He chuckles. “No, not lie. Just…keep a secret for now.”
“That still feels like it’s going to bite me in the ass,” I insist.
He shrugs. “Fair enough. I’ll tell Gray I came to talk to you. How about you just don’t mention it for a few days until I have a chance to come clean?”
I give him a quick nod. “That I can do.”
“Great. Do you have a minute to talk then?”
“Yeah, sure.” I gesture to the press chairs. “Let’s sit down.”
He and I both sit, and I wait for him to speak. It’s several seconds before he does.
“So,” he says at last, “what’s going on between you and my daughter?”
I blink at him. “We’re, um, dating?” Somehow this feels like a trick question too, so I stick to the basics.
He pulls out his phone, touches the pad a few times, then turns it to show me the pic of me and Gray on the dance floor at the club.
My hand is nearly on her breast, and her face looks painted in the throes of ecstasy.
The way my body presses into hers makes it look like I’m thrusting my cock into her, and I feel my face heat.
I didn’t pay much attention to the pic before, but it looks so much dirtier on the phone of the man whose daughter I felt up.
“This your idea of dating?” Raymond asks.
“Um…no, sir. But in fairness, we both had a little too much to drink,” I say sheepishly.
He raises a brow as if to say, ‘Not my little girl.’
Fine. I had a little too much to drink.
When he remains silent, I attempt a defense. “Don’t tell me you never drank too much and let things get a little too intense with a woman.”
He puts the phone away. “Of course I have,” he says. “Hell, I didn’t need to drink too much to let things get more intense than they should’ve, but I’m not a famous athlete. My fuck ups don’t make the tabloids.”
I wince. Score one to dad.
“Fair point,” I say, “and I’m sorry for any problems I caused Gray or your family. But let me just assure you-”
I cut myself off, suddenly not sure what I intend to tell the man. It’s one thing to lie to the press. It’s quite another to outright lie to the father of the woman I’ve dragged into the clusterfuck of fake dating a pro athlete. I need to tell him something true.
“Let me assure you,” I start again, “that the last thing I want to do is hurt Gray, and I will do everything in my power to make sure this thing between us doesn’t come back to bite her.”
I do a quick mental check and confirm everything I said is accurate.
He nods absently as he takes me in, and I have the disturbing feeling he’s either searching my face for subtle ticks, or he’s mentally counting the pulse beats in my neck to see if my heartbeat is elevated, like he’s a God damn human polygraph.
“This thing between you serious?” he asks.
Again, I give myself a second to decide how to answer, and I hope he doesn’t see that as a sign of evasion.
“I can only speak for myself,” I say, “but I’m pretty invested right now. Things are still new, and – drunken night at the club aside – we’re taking things slow. I don’t want to call things serious-serious, but neither of us is seeing anyone else.”
He nods again, and I pray to God he’s not forward enough to ask me if we’ve had sex yet.
“It must be decently serious if you took her up to meet your parents,” he says. “She skipped Thanksgiving with her own family for that.”
My mouth drops open. His words are more an observation than an accusation, but I still feel like an asshole now.
“I’m really sorry about that, sir,” I say. The address just slips out again, and I wonder if it’s the veteran hat that makes me say it. I’ve never called anyone else’s dad ‘sir’ before.
“It’s hard for me to get up to see my parents during the season,” I go on, “so I have to plan visits around holidays. I’m sorry I had to steal Gray for that last one.
But yeah, I guess it’s semi-serious between us.
I feel like I might want more than she does right now, but she’s been willing to go along with things. ”
I don’t mention that the ‘more’ I want is sex. After sharing a bed with her, I want to fuck Gray so bad it’s almost all I can think about.
We left the option of sleeping together up in the air after our ride home from Canada. I don’t think she’s opposed to it, but she’s hedging. If she ever gave me the go-ahead, my pants would be around my ankles before she finished getting the words out.
Raymond nods, as if my response passed some kind of litmus test.
“I’m sure Gray can arrange a day for us to all get together and-,” I start to suggest, but Raymond waves a dismissive hand to stop me.
“Gray and her mother have a complicated relationship,” Raymond says. “Gray will introduce you when she’s ready, which – if the past is any indication – could be months from now. I just wanted to meet you sooner rather than later given your…unique circumstances.”
“You a hockey fan?” I ask, then immediately regret it. It sounds like I’m accusing him of using Gray’s relationship to meet me.
He smiles. “Football and golf. Never really took to hockey, but if this thing lasts between you and Gray…” He shrugs. “I might have to start watching. You any good?”
That last is definitely a test. He wants to know the size of my ego.
I shrug. “I do alright. I learned the hard way the last couple years that I’m not as bullet-proof as I thought, but I’m working to get back to where I was. Being with Gray has helped.”
He cocks his head. “So she is working with you on your trash talk issue?” he asks, although the question sounds more like a confirmation.
“Her research helps, but honestly, just being with her has been good for me.”
I don’t realize until the words are out of my mouth how true they are. Gray hasn’t necessarily helped my hockey game – yet – but being with her has been good for me. I feel more grounded around her.
Raymond stands, and I stand with him.
“I’ve taken up enough of your time,” he says. “Thanks for seeing me.”
“Of course,” I say. “I hope we get to hang out more soon. Once Gray decides she’s comfortable enough to officially introduce us, I mean.”
“Do you golf?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, sir.”
“Well, as far as I can see, that’s your only flaw,” he says, “but you’ve got a few months to learn how to swing a club.”
“I’ll work on that,” I promise.
We shake hands again.
“I like the hat, by the way,” I say. “Which branch did you serve in?”
“Air Force,” he says. “The hat was a gift from Gray. Did you serve?”
“No, sir,” I say. “But thank you for your service.”
He nods. “I was part of a special unit that got marksman training. My eyesight isn’t what it once was, but with the right rifle, I can still hit my target from about five hundred meters out.”
He smiles at me, and I understand it’s a lighthearted threat.
“So you can easily hit me on the ice from the nosebleeds,” I observe with a smile. “Got it.”
He laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “I’m glad we understand each other.”
“Loud and clear.”
I walk Raymond back down to the guard station, say goodbye, then head for the locker room. Gray and I have now both met each other’s parents, sort of, and that pushes this thing between us closer to being real.
Far from freaking me out, this feels right.