29. Ian
29
IAN
“Dad, you have to fix things with Sadie.”
I reach across the console of the SUV and pat my daughter’s thin arm. We touched down at the private airport south of Denver about an hour ago, after being in LA for a week. My daughter and I needed some time away from Colorado to catch a break from the gossip that was sure to follow in the wake of Piper Hart’s canceled wedding.
“There’s nothing broken, Rivs,” I tell her, my voice confident even as my heart lurches like it’s taking that first giant plunge on a roller coaster track. “You were there when Sadie and I agreed to pretend date. Maybe things got a little carried away, but we both did our part and now it’s over.”
“She likes you, Dad.” Riva yanks her arm away and growls in frustration. It sounds remarkably like a sound I’d make, which is oddly satisfying. “And you like her, and I like her more than any of the bubbleheads you’ve dated before now.”
“Bubbleheads? Is that necessary?”
“Mom called them bubble butts, but I’m trying to be nice.”
I could say something about my ex’s propensity to flit from one on-set romance to another, but I choose to be the bigger person because my daughter needs me to.
Besides, it’s not the point. Overhearing Sadie trivialize our relationship left me with a yawning sense of betrayal and the uncomfortable feeling of having been used for my body and fame. But, in the end, she probably did us both a favor. I’m not sure how to be in a real relationship, and I would have screwed things up eventually anyway. If I’d admitted my feelings before knowing hers weren’t the same, the humiliation would have made the pain so much worse.
How do I explain that to my daughter without admitting I’m the problem? She probably already knows it, but I desperately want her to see me as someone better. I want to be that better man.
“Sadie and I can still be friends,” I tell her, even though I likely ruined that chance by letting anger dictate my actions.
I should never have told her sister or anyone about the terms of our arrangement. I can pretend I did it for Piper, but the truth is I was butthurt over what I heard. Ironic, because if you asked most of the women I’ve dated, they’d tell you I don’t have the capacity for hurt because my heart isn’t capable of it.
“I think you’ll like the bigger house I’m looking at,” I tell Riva. “It’s got a barn and lots of land. Enough room for a pool.”
“I like our house.” Great. Even the pool isn’t enough of a carrot to entice my kid. “I like living next to Sadie so I can help her.”
I like living next to Sadie, too, but I’m not sure my pride—or my heart—can take being so close to her with how things ended. It’s time to break out the big guns. “I talked to your mom about our current living situation.”
Her head whips toward me. “I don’t want to go to boarding school, Dad. Please. I’ll move to whatever house you want. Can we stay in Colorado?”
“Of course we’re staying, sweetie. No boarding school. That isn’t on the table.”
“I overheard you and your agent talking.” Her voice is low and careful. “He wants you to move to LA or some other big city because there are more opportunities for work.”
My heart squeezes at the worry in her voice. “You only heard part of the conversation, Rivs. I told Phil if Colorado makes you happy, there’s no chance of me living anywhere else.”
“Really?” She doesn’t look convinced. “So what are you going to do for work now that you aren’t a quarterback? Mom always said you don’t know how to be you if you aren’t playing football.”
Wow, Monika really has no problem throwing me under the bus and then backing over my body a few dozen times. I guess I brought it on myself by being an absentee father for so many years, but I’m going to prove to both of them I’ve changed.
“I can be me just fine without football,” I lie. The more challenging part might be being me without Sadie in our lives. “Let me figure out the future, kid. But you’re my top priority.”
“Okay,” she whispers with an almost shy smile. One that gives me hope she might believe me.
“Speaking of the future, we should revisit the no-pet rule your mom established.”
“Are you serious?” The joy on her face makes me want to buy an entire damn zoo. “Are you going to let me get a dog?”
“Your mom and I discussed it.” I nod. “I explained to her that having a dog would be good now that we’re settled in Skylark.”
The squeal that greets my words could break glass, but it also makes me grin. I hold up a hand before Riva can take off with her plans. I know she has them. “There are some non-negotiable conditions you need to agree to first. As you’ve learned working with Sadie, dogs are a big responsibility. They need to be trained and exercised every day. You have to be willing to do the bulk of the work.”
“I will, Daddy.” Killing me with the daddy again. “I’ll do it all. Sadie taught me, and she’s the best.”
No argument from me, because Sadie being the best is an undisputed fact. I hold up one finger. “When you visit your mom, even if it’s for an extended period or she sends the private jet for you, the dog stays with me. No guilt trips or making her feel bad that she’s allergic.”
“Is she really allergic?” my daughter grumbles.
“Not for you to question,” I remind her. “The dog will be yours, but only at my house. Got it?”
I can see that she wants to argue but can’t quite stop smiling. “Got it.”
“Then let’s talk specifics.” I gesture to my phone on the console between us. “Check out the last text. There are some puppy pics I think you might like. A golden retriever would be a good starter dog. I found a breeder about an hour and a half from here. A litter will be available around the start of the school year. Champion bloodlines and?—”
Riva tosses the phone back to me like it’s a poisonous snake. “We have to adopt a dog, Dad.” Back to Dad again. “A dog who needs us.”
“These puppies need a good home.”
“I already know what dog I want, Daddy.” Suddenly, the daddy term feels ominous. “Two dogs.”
“Whoa there, kiddo. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“They need me.”
“Who needs you?”
“Princess and Beast. I follow Sadie’s sister on Insta, and she posted that Sadie is helping to rehome them.”
“Beast isn’t a dog, Rivs. He’s a chicken with floppy ears.”
A horrified gasp greets my words, even though we both know it’s true. “That’s so mean, Dad. He needs me because I can love him for who he is.”
A shot straight to the heart.
“Princess is super easy,” she tells me. “She even potties on pee pads in the house.”
“Not a selling point,” I mutter as visions of a friendly, loyal, good-natured—not to mention good looking—retriever vanish from my mind. “Besides, I thought that dog’s owner was obsessed with her.”
That was how the whole fake dating deal started. I refrain from reminding either of us of this fact out loud.
“Penelope had to move and couldn’t take her.” Riva cocks her head. “Princess also comes with her own wardrobe. Penelope gave everything to Sadie.”
I roll my eyes. “Um...do I look like a match for a dog who wears dresses?”
My daughter turns in her seat to study me. Her face is illuminated in the afternoon sun coming through the front windshield, the freckles across her nose making her look younger than the young woman she’s on the cusp of becoming. I can’t get back those years I wasted focusing on myself and my career instead of her, but I’ll make the most of every moment going forward, even if it means welcoming a chicken-dog and a pup with a penchant for playing dress up into my life.
“Do you remember when I was into having my hair done and you learned how to do braids?”
It was the year she turned eight. Monika had to do a last-minute press junket, so Riva spent two weeks with me. “I sucked at braids.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, wrinkling her nose. “But you tried. And when I was tiny, you let me paint your fingernails sparkly pink.”
I glance at my giant hands on the steering wheel, thinking about the few and far between weekends when Riva would come to stay with me as a toddler. I had my assistant buy loads of the top-rated toys for preschool-age girls. All my daughter wanted to do was make blanket forts, have tea parties, and take turns painting each other’s nails.
I didn’t understand it at the time, but now I realize being a good parent isn’t about the toys or VIP tickets to Disney. Riva had been trying to connect with me and forge a bond.
I was too stupid and selfish to appreciate it at the time, but I get it now.
“Basically, I’m going to say yes to the pampered pooch and chicken dog because I’d do anything for you.”
She flashes a duh grin. “Exactly.”
The kid is not wrong, and I’m glad she knows it. I want her to feel secure in my love, the way I never did from my dad.
I pull off the exit for Skylark and head in the direction of our neighborhood, dread settling like a boulder in my gut. “To be honest…” I clear my throat, unsure how to broach the subject that needs to be discussed before we get home. “I’m not sure Sadie will let me have the dogs. I know I told you she and I are still friends, but I’m not sure if that’s true. There’s a decent chance she won’t want anything to do with me. I said some things that were not very nice to her in Vail.”
“Why?” she asks quietly, and I’m surprised at her calm tone.
I shrug. “I was mad and hurt and I acted like an as—like a jerk. Football gave me an outlet when things got tough in real life. I could work out being angry or frustrated on the field. I’m not good with emotions, kid, but you know that already.”
“You do okay.”
Those three words feel like the biggest compliment in the world.
“Adopting Beast and Princess will help fix things with Sadie.”
I pull onto our street, and sweat beads on my forehead as her house, and mine come into view. I owe her an apology, and I suck at apologizing more than I do at braiding hair.
Thinking about Riva’s misinterpretation of the snippet of conversation she overheard between my agent and me makes me pause. Should I have given Sadie a chance to explain her call with her friend. It seemed obvious that she used me based on her words, but maybe I missed a bigger piece of the puzzle. Maybe I’d been looking for an excuse to end things because going all-in felt too risky for my heart, and when her words met my fear, assumptions took over from logic.
“Something tells me it won’t be that easy.”
“You can sign up for obedience lessons,” Riva suggests as we get out of the SUV. “That’s a great way to spend time with Sadie.”
“Okay, kid.” I hold up a hand as I grab our luggage from the back. “Another stipulation—no more matchmaking from you or anyone else.”
She purses her lips and glares at me. Apparently poop scooping and exercising a dog are more straightforward parameters to agree to than giving up on Sadie Hart and me.
The truth is I don’t want to give up on us either. I’ve never felt this way. And I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I’m smart enough to realize how precious that is. How special Sadie is. Even if loving her means opening myself up to a whole world of potential hurt.
“Can I text Sadie right away about Princess and Beast?”
“Let’s sleep on it at least one night to make sure you don’t change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
“One night.”
She sighs dramatically as she turns back to me from the door leading into the laundry room. “First thing tomorrow, so somebody else doesn’t adopt them first.”
“Highly unlikely, but fine.”
“You never know now that Sadie is famous.”
She doesn’t add an explanation, but I still cringe. I’m not sure if famous is the right word. Possibly infamous in this town based on what I did to her. Right now, I feel like as big of a douche canoe as Bradley Carlson, and that’s a rough pill to swallow.
“You’re the best, Dad. I love you,” she calls over her shoulder and disappears into the house, the door slamming behind her.
She loves me. She said it out loud. Once again, the thought of becoming a zookeeper holds a ridiculous amount of appeal. Still, I’m agreeing to a dog—two because I’m a pushover. But I’m doing it so she knows I can commit. I’m going to be a good dad. Set limits and rules.
I’m about to hit the button to close the garage door when I hear someone walking up the driveway. My breath catches as I turn, hoping it might be Sadie. I want to see her like I want my next breath, even if she’s only here to read me the riot act for ruining her reputation in town.
Instead, her friend Sally stares at me, arms crossed. If looks could kill, I’d be long gone by now. I didn’t give Sally or her wife an explanation when I picked up Riva early, but it’s clear she knows exactly what happened in Vail.
“You don’t have to tell me I screwed up,” I say, placing the suitcases on the ground. “I didn’t mean for anyone but Piper to hear about the fake dating.”
“No one was supposed to know,” she says, one Converse-clad foot tapping her temper onto the driveway.
“Did you know about her plan to get me into bed so she could tell her book club about it?”
Sally lifts her aviator sunglasses to the top of her head. “Are you going to whine to me because you think sweet as spun-sugar Sadie Hart used you for your body? Pretty sure The Playmaker nickname was as much inspired by your activities off-field as on.”
She’s not wrong, but she’s not exactly right either. I’m not saying I didn’t make mistakes. “I never kissed and told,” I tell her, my voice measured. “Let alone fucked and told.”
Sally doesn’t bat an eye at my crass summation. “She didn’t choose you because it made a good story. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of the fact that her virginity was out there for public consumption in that bucket list challenge, but she did it for the right reasons.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“She has a friend who might die and who has a long, scary, unknown journey ahead of her. A friend asked Sadie to face fear alongside her. That’s what you’re missing here, Ian.”
The fact that Sally uses my name, instead of the nickname I’m quickly coming to hate, means something. I cross my arms over my chest, matching her body language. “Explain.”
“Sadie may have fooled herself into believing it, but her biggest fear was not the physical act of having sex.” Sally takes a step forward and leans in like I need to pay attention. “Her biggest fear is real intimacy. She’s never loved anyone who’s loved her back unconditionally.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw, but it doesn’t relieve the tension. “Plenty of people have plenty of sex without being in love,” I say with a laugh. “I’m one of them.”
“Trust me…I was one of those people too. When I met my wife, it was different, and, more importantly, scary as hell. For the record, Sadie isn’t like you and me. She can act like she’s never had an opportunity or that she’s been friend-zoned to death, but sex is easy to come by. We both know it. Intimacy, not so much. Love is one in a million.”
Don’t I know it.
She inclines her head. “Have you ever had sex with someone you truly loved?”
“None of your business,” I snap, but look away because I don’t want her to see the truth in my eyes.
“It’s different,” she repeats. “It’s all Sadie knows. You are all she knows.”
Some primal protective beast roars to life inside me at those words. “What if you’re wrong?” I can’t believe I’ve exposed my soft underbelly like this. I can’t let myself feel this vulnerable. It’s like trying to throw a pass outside of the pocket with no protection, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. A sure way to get pummeled, body and soul.
“What if I’m not?” she asks. “Are you going to take the chance of missing out on something right? Because it feels right, doesn’t it?”
“More than I ever expected,” I whisper.
And as much as Sadie hurt me, I might have done even worse to her. “People are going to rake her over the coals for the fake dating lie.”
“Oh, buddy, you’ve got a lot to learn about small towns.” She shakes her head. “Maybe Amanda and some of the other thirsty women hoping you’re up for grabs feel that way. The rest of us love Sadie. She’s one of us. She’s the best of us.”
Sally wags a finger in front of my face. “If you want another chance with her, you’ll need to convince the whole town to give you one. It’s going to take more than an autographed football or a round of beers. It’s going to take you getting real. Can you do that?”
The honest answer? I don’t know. Other than football, I’ve never tried to get real before Riva came to live with me, and Sadie is the person who showed me how to do it.
“I’m not sure I know how to be real.” Or win a woman back. I’ve never had to try that hard. I’ve never cared about making an effort for anything other than football, and more recently, my daughter. But I want to try for Sadie.
I’m a lot of things, but a coward isn’t one of them. If it takes me a thousand years and adopting every reject dog I can get my hands on, I’m going to try to be the man who deserves the love her friend is convinced she has for me.
“You know what every great player needs before they go into the big game?” I ask Sally.
She cocks her head. “A hype man holding an energy drink?”
“A coach,” I say. “Welcome to the team.”
She stares at my outstretched hand for a long moment then laughs. “Wait until my wife hears about this,” she murmurs and gives me a mighty shake.