Chapter 40 Chelsea #2
“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t have made a point of telling Dad and me together.”
I’ve got no comeback for that, so I simply scowl.
“Tell Luca to come talk to me,” Dad interjects. “I want him to know if he breaks your heart, he’ll have to answer to me. Not as his coach, but as your father.”
“He knows that already, Dad. But I’ll tell him that for you if you want.”
“No, I want to tell him that myself, face-to-face. Man to man.” He turns to Lincoln. “Now, stop being an asshole and tell your sister congratulations.”
Lincoln scoffs. “I’m an asshole for being pissed she’s dating a Maguire? I don’t think so, Dad.”
“You’ve had all day to get past your hissy fit about the kid’s last name. Tell her congratulations and move on.”
“All day?” I blurt, as Lincoln echoes, “Move on?”
Dad explains, “During the luncheon, Lincoln mentioned you looked awfully chummy with ‘Satan’s brother.’ So, I told him to get over it.”
Lincoln supplies, “He said, ‘She’s not only chummy with Satan’s brother. If your mother is right about this situation, she’s head over heels in love with him.’”
I gasp out, “Mom ratted me out? I never would have believed it.”
“Don’t blame your mother,” Dad says. “I mentioned my suspicions to her several times over the past few months, and she never said a word. But a few weeks ago, I became so sure and insistent, she finally fessed up and told me what she knew to get me to shut the hell up about it. I assure you, I made it so she had no choice.”
I can’t help chuckling. “Nate’s known since the preseason, by the way. He figured us out when we played the Raptors, just from seeing Luca and me together and exchanging smiles and looks.”
Dad smirks. “I’m not surprised. Nate’s always been able to read you like a book.”
Lincoln scoffs. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me about this.”
“If he did, what would you have done?”
“I would have tried to put an end to the relationship, through any means necessary.”
I throw up a hand. “That’s exactly why nobody told you!
I’m a grown-ass woman now, Linc, and I don’t want or need your approval or protection anymore.
I’ve already got a father. A great one. I don’t need another one.
” When my big brother makes a face that tells me he doesn’t care what I want, that he’s going to protect me, whether I like it or not, I exhale in frustration and say, “Look, here’s the deal.
You can either be kind and accepting toward my boyfriend, or you can watch me being ridiculously happy with him from afar as I give you the silent treatment.
Because, I swear to God, if you’re a dickhead to the man I love, I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live. ”
“She’s not bluffing,” Dad says with a laugh.
“Oh, don’t I know it. Chelsea Parker never bluffs.”
The men share a laugh, probably remembering all the times I iced them out till I got what I wanted.
After letting out a huff, Lincoln says, “I’ll have to be at least a little bit of a dickhead to him for a while, Pop-Tart. That’s nonnegotiable. He’s a Maguire, for fuck’s sake. Be reasonable.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “For how long?”
Lincoln ponders that briefly. “A year or two, if he lasts that long?”
“What? Lincoln, no!” I appeal to my father. “Dad, make him promise to be nice to my boyfriend. I’m not just going to prom with him. I love the man.”
Lincoln scoffs. “What’s Dad gonna do to me if I don’t play nice? Take away my car keys? Ground me?”
Dad glares at Lincoln ominously, letting him know he’s still got the upper hand in their relationship, no matter how many Pro Bowl appearances Lincoln’s got under his belt, and my brother comically cowers, making me giggle despite myself.
When that bit is over, however, Dad places his palm on Linc’s broad shoulder and speaks earnestly. “Lincoln, you need to support your sister. She said she loves him. Have you ever heard her say that before about a guy, even once?”
Lincoln’s face quickly betrays his answer. Nope, he hasn’t.
Dad nods and claps Lincoln’s shoulder. “Good man. I fully admit Luca was as annoying as hemorrhoids to me at first. But he’s grown on me. Like fungus. Give him a chance, and I’m sure he’ll grow like fungus on you, too.”
Lincoln lets out an annoyed breath. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
My big brother addresses me. “But I swear if you marry this guy, Pop-Tart, all bets are off.”
“Jesus God, slow down. We’re not even thinking about marriage yet.”
“And if ever you have the misfortune of getting knocked up with that man’s half-Wolverine mutant baby, I need you to promise you’ll have Luca sign an ironclad contract that all offspring will be raised as Buckeyes.”
I chuckle. “I said I love the man, not that I’m ready for marriage and babies with him. Also, Luca’s not even a Wolverine, technically. He went to Nebraska, Linc. He’s a proud Cornhusker.”
Lincoln rolls his blue eyes. “Don’t you dare bullshit me, Chelsea. That man was raised by Wolverines. It’s in his blood. So, he’s a Wolverine in all ways that count, and you know it.”
He’s right, of course. Hence the reason I freaked out all those years ago in that hotel room in Bloomington.
“Okay, well, the bottom line is I love the man, so his Wolverine heritage is something I’m willing to overlook.
” I take a deep breath. I can’t believe I just said that.
Even more crazy, I meant it with all my heart.
“So, are we all good here? I need to go drop this bomb on Bellamy and Ginny now.”
“We’re good,” Dad says. “Good luck.”
“God willing, Bellamy won’t fire me.” I hold up crossed fingers.
Dad winks. “Let me know if you need some backup.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, but I’m willing to take whatever bullet might be coming for me. That’s how I know my love for Luca is the real deal.”