18. Tyler
EIGHTEEN
TYLER
“Dad,” Kylie calls as soon as I open the front door. It’s nice to hear her call my name without it sounding pissed. She hasn’t forgiven me for the McKenzie thing, and I don’t blame her. I haven’t forgiven myself. But maybe we’re stepping in the right direction.
I wipe my shoes on the front mat right as a flash of lightning cracks across the sky. The storm has been picking up over the last half hour. My phone was blowing up on my drive home with all kinds of wind and thunderstorm alerts. Nebraska doesn’t play around with the weather, that’s for sure.
“Yeah. I’m home.” I slip my shoes off and hang my coat in the closet. After practice, I had to catch up with one of my assistant coaches, so I’m home a little later than I planned. But what else is new?
She walks over to me from the living room, worry covering her face.
“What’s wrong?”
She bites her bottom lip, a habit she picked up from her mother. “Promise you won’t get mad?”
“No.” I’ve learned the hard way not to make that kind of promise to my daughter. Especially when we were going through the teen years. “What’s going on?”
She sighs. “Ok, well, obviously, you know McKenzie?”
Fuck, why does my heart rate jump just from hearing her name?
“Yes,” I answer slowly.
“Ok, well, you know how she was staying here a lot?”
Oh, great. Has Kylie decided that now is the best time to hash this out? Fine, let’s get it over with, I suppose.
“Yes.”
She winces a little before sighing. “She was staying here because she didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”
My brows furrow, not understanding what she’s saying. “What do you mean?”
“She’s been living in her car mostly. She had to give up her apartment this semester because she couldn’t afford it anymore, so she’s been crashing on couches and sleeping in her car. That’s why I offered her a place to stay here until, well, you know.”
My stomach sinks. I kicked McKenzie out of our practically empty house to sleep in her rundown little car? No wonder she had so much crap in there. “Shit, Ky. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She didn’t want me to! I promised her I wouldn’t. But I’m scared because it’s storming pretty bad and the Weather Channel says it’s only going to get worse. She had a shift this afternoon, and I asked her where she was planning on sleeping tonight, but she said she’d be fine. She won’t tell me where she is, and I just don’t want her out there in this storm.”
“Goddammit, Kylie.”
“Please don’t be mad,” she begs with her big puppy dog eyes that always help her get her way.
“This is serious, Kylie. She can’t be living in her car. Not only because of nights like tonight but who knows what creeps might be lurking around, looking in her windows and shit. It’s not safe.”
“I know! I tried to tell her. That’s why I had her stay over so much.”
I grab my boots and coat from the closet. I’m certainly not letting her sleep in her car tonight. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this.”
“You’re the one who kicked her out!” She throws back at me.
“Because both of you withheld information!” I yell back. My temper is high, but it’s not Kylie I’m upset with; it’s me. I should’ve seen the signs. The messy car, always taking showers here, her growling stomach. I take a deep breath and try to comfort my daughter, who is clearly very upset right now. “We’ll find her, Ky.”
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“You said she’s not answering, so I’m going to drive around to see if I can find her. If you have any ideas where she might be, please tell me.”
“I’m coming with you.” She makes a move to put her shoes on.
“No, you aren’t. You’re going to stay right here where I know you’re safe.”
“Dad!”
“Enough, Kylie.” I rarely put my foot down when it comes to Kylie—she’s always had me wrapped around her finger—but I can’t have her out in this storm. And I don’t particularly want her to be around me when I could easily snap. I can’t really explain that I’m this worked up because I have feelings for McKenzie that I shouldn’t. Hell, I was jealous of her talking to my offensive coordinator, and he was barely even looking at her.
“Fine. Check her work and maybe the student center gym. Sometimes, she showers there. I’ll send you her number.”
“Thank you.” I don’t bother telling her that I already have McKenzie’s number. “There are flashlights and candles in the cabinet by the fridge if the power goes out. Let me know if you hear from her.”
She nods, and I throw my coat on and run back out to my truck. First thing I do is call McKenzie. It goes straight to voicemail. Then, I shoot her a text.
No response.
So, I make my way back to the school. I drive around every building looking for McKenzie’s car with no luck.
I try her cell again. Voicemail.
I head to the restaurant she works at, but she’s not there either.
I drive around looking in every well-lit parking area I can think of because surely she wouldn’t be stupid enough to park in a dark place overnight. I can barely see through the thick sheets of rain, so it’s not the ideal night for a search and rescue.
After another half an hour of driving, I finally pull into the Walmart parking lot closest to the La Vista campus and see her car parked in the very back under a light pole.
I swing my truck next to her car and hop out in the pouring rain. I rap on her window, not even thinking about the fact that I could potentially scare her. She jumps in her front seat and shuts her laptop.
I can’t see her face through all the rain coming down on the window, but when she opens her door, she looks pissed.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“What am I doing? What the fuck are you doing?” Ok, that was harsh. I need to calm down, but my heart has been racing for the last hour since Kylie told me that McKenzie has been regularly putting herself in danger.
“It’s none of your business,” she snaps back.
“Don’t give me attitude. I just spent an hour driving around looking for your ass.” I have to practically shout over the sound of the rain.
“I didn’t ask you to do that!”
“No, but my daughter is worried sick because she knows you’re out here living out of your car, and you’re not responding to texts or calls.”
A bolt of lightning crosses the sky over us, followed by a loud boom of thunder.
She grabs her phone from her cup holder. “Shit, my phone is dead. I didn’t realize. . .”
“Come on, let’s go.” I don’t want to hear her excuses. We both need to get out of this storm.
“I’m fine right here.”
“McKenzie, this is dangerous, and you know it. Get your ass back to my house now.”
“I’m not your responsibility,” she argues back, her voice rising. She’s standing out of her car now. We’re both drenched and look like complete idiots in the middle of this storm. “You asked me to leave, remember? Why are you even here?”
“I’m here because I’m a decent human and don’t want anything to happen to you,” I yell. “I’m here because my daughter is worried about her best friend. I’m here because. . .”
I stop myself from finishing that sentence. She doesn’t need to know my last reason. Admitting that I might have feelings for my daughter’s twenty-two-year-old friend is not something I’m ready for.
“Just get in the damn truck.”
“No.”
I don’t bother with another response. I bend over and put my shoulder into her stomach, picking her up and hoisting her over my shoulder. McKenzie wriggles and shouts for me to put her down, but I tune it out. I open my passenger door and toss her in.
Then I run back to her car, grab her backpack, phone, and keys, and lock her car.
Once I’m in the drivers seat, I crank up the heat. McKenzie has stopped yelling but is now glaring at me.
“You’re insane, you know that?” she asks.
I huff a laugh. “Yeah, I’m truly starting to think that.”
“What is wrong with you? You kiss me, then kick me out of your house. Now you’re forcing me back? What is going on? What am I supposed to think?”
I grip the steering wheel.
“Fuck. I know. I know, McKenzie. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was a moment of weakness that I wish I could take back.”
“Why? Was it not. . . good enough?” Her voice is quieter than I’ve ever heard it, like she’s nervous about my answer. It has nothing to do with whether or not the kiss was good because, honestly, it was the best kiss of my life. I still remember how soft her lips were, how good they felt pressed against me, and her fingers in my hair. I haven’t felt that good in a very, very long time, which makes this whole thing even worse.
“McKenzie, that’s not the point.”
“I need to know.”
I grip the steering wheel even harder. I haven’t even driven out of the parking lot yet and I’m already questioning if I should be allowing this woman back into my house. Maybe I should pay for her to stay in a hotel. But if anyone found out I was putting her up in a room, they’d for sure get the wrong idea, even if I was staying away from her.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her.
“It does! I need to know. Is this, us, a mistake because you don’t feel what I feel or because of my age and my friendship with Kylie?”
“Don’t forget I could lose my job because you’re a fucking student,” I add.
“Is that the reason, then? Your job?” Why won’t she let this go? She knows better than anyone that nothing can happen between us.
“McKenzie.”
“Just tell me!” she shouts. And it’s like my patience snaps.
“Goddammit.” I hit my hand on the steering wheel, and she jumps, startled by my sudden outburst. “Of course, I fucking feel it, McKenzie. I thought that was pretty damn obvious when I stuck my tongue down your throat. You had to have felt how much I liked it, too. But I can’t feel this way for you. There’s too much at stake. For both of us.”
She stares at me, and I stare back. Both of us are drenched from the rain. Her hair is plastered to her head, and I feel like I’m sitting on a soggy blanket, but I can’t make myself look away from her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I can’t have her.
“Ok,” she finally says, sounding defeated.
“Ok? All of that for just an ok?”
She nods. “I understand. I’ll respect your decision.”
“Thank you.” This feels too easy, but I’m too tired to continue arguing about it tonight. “I’m going to take you back to the house. We’ll come get your car tomorrow, and you’ll stay with us for as long as you need.”
“Tyler—”
“I don’t want to hear it, McKenzie. You’ll stay in the guest room. I don’t want you sleeping in your car anymore, understood?”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I was already kicked out once.”
I take a deep breath and shake my head as I finally pull the truck out of the parking lot. “I kicked you out because I was an asshole. But I’m an adult, and I can keep my hands to myself.” I hope. “Just no more late-night chats. We shouldn’t be spending time together like that.”
She looks out the window at the storm surrounding us. “Alright.”
We don’t say anything for several minutes as I carefully make my way back to the house in this downpour. There are so many things I want to say to her. I want to reach out and hold her hand. I want to apologize for yelling, for being an asshole. But it’s better if she’s mad at me.
“Do your parents know you’re living in your car?” I ask. I know she’s technically not my responsibility, but as a parent, I know I would be livid if I found out my child was being this reckless.
“Of course not.”
“Why don’t you tell them you need help?”
“My parents are barely making ends meet. My mom was sick a few years ago, and they’re still in debt because of it. She works part-time, but it’s hard for her because of her health. I didn’t want them to have to worry about me on top of everything else. Then, my rent went up over the summer, and I knew I was going to have to cut down my hours at the restaurant to accommodate my school workload for the semester, so I made a decision and did what I had to do. It’s just for one semester.”
“It’s not safe.” As mad as I am at her for this, it also proves what a strong woman she is. She has a big heart, maybe too big.
“I’ve been fine. Sometimes I crash on other friend’s couches. I always park under lights, and I usually put screens up on my windows when I’m sleeping.”
“You’re staying with us for as long as you need to,” I tell her again.
She sighs and appears to finally realize that I’m not playing around. “At least let me contribute to rent or bills or something.”
“No.”
“Tyler.”
“I said no, McKenzie. I’m not taking your money. Don’t ask again.”
When we pull into the driveway, we both sit there, not quite ready to get out of our little bubble. Like walking into the house where I’ve set up rules to keep us apart signifies the end of whatever was growing between us.
It has to be this way.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her quietly. My fingers twitch because I want so badly to reach over, pull her into my lap, and hold her until she believes me.
“Yeah. Me too.”
Then she makes a run for it into the house, leaving me alone in the truck.