Chapter 14 #2
My eyes seek out my father, and it’s like I have a crystal ball to tell the future.
He's standing in a loose circle of former players, a willowy blonde clinging to him as if he powers the sun and moon.
He leans in and I get a better look at him.
Tall, square jaw, boxy shoulders, still densely muscular.
His overgrown dark hair is shot through at the temples with silver-gray.
There are more lines on his face than I remember, but otherwise we are identical.
This man gave me my strength and speed. But he also gave me daddy issues.
So there's that.
Mollie is already looking at me, waiting for my cue. I sigh. "I have to go say hi."
"Yeah." She gives me a funny look. "I figured. You gonna introduce me?"
For a second, a white-hot note of jealousy races through my veins. I imagine Mollie wanting to meet my dad, get a selfie with him. Film a TikTok while he tells her about the greatest accomplishments of his career.
I get it. Really, I do. It's a great opportunity for her. But everything in me rebels against her meeting him.
"No," I say, my temper flaring. "I'll come find you when I'm done."
She doesn't miss a beat. "Okay. I'm going to try to find Hunter. He's supposed to film with me sometime next week."
Mollie makes such a non-event of my dad being here that I feel the back of my neck burn. My dad brings out these animal instincts in me that I just can't control.
I reach out and squeeze her arm. "Back in a bit."
Mollie nods and turns to Connor, chatting with him about how well his thirst-trap Reels are doing. I grit my teeth and keep my mouth shut; she's just doing her job.
Straightening my tie, I make my way over to my dad.
I wait a beat for him to wrap up his story; he has endless tales of the old days on the ice that he trots out in a very precise order.
Well-rehearsed, you could say. He wraps his arm around a pretty woman.
I can only see the woman from behind as I make my way to my dad.
Dad kisses the woman’s shoulder and I wrinkle my nose. My dad is a letch, but even so. The pretty woman he’s hugging seems way too young for him.
Then I circle around and freeze, my mouth open, staring at the girl in my dad’s arms. Long blonde hair. Tiny black dress. Fake tits. Fake blue eyes.
And a mole just above her lip that I know all too well.
My ex, Naomi, is staring back at me, her heavily made-up eyes wide, swaying a little as she clutches at my dad. She does a weird kissy face and I stare with no little horror at her lips; she's had them enhanced with silicone since we dated several years ago.
My dad has always gone for a petite, curvy, blonde type. I just never figured he'd go for girls that I once dated.
"Son!" My dad must have finished his story while I was staring at his girlfriend. "Come here, give your old man a hug."
As if we are best friends who talk all the time. Completely ignoring that I'm freaking out. He's here with the only girl I've really dated for more than a few months.
What the fuck is happening?
Shit. Naomi tried to text me and I ignored her. I can’t stop staring at my ex. Dad steps toward me, lifting his arms. I embrace him, my entire body stiff.
"What the fuck?" I hiss in his ear.
Dad's hug tightens. "Not here."
He steps back, clapping my shoulder. "I was just telling these guys about how excited you are for the preseason to start."
I tilt my head at that. What is he talking about? As far as I'm concerned, the summers are never long enough. Especially this summer, with Mollie staying in my house.
"Uh huh," I answer. "Dad, we should—" I pause to flick my gaze to Naomi. "Talk."
"Son, I want you to meet my main squeeze. Naomi, come here and meet my mini-me."
My mouth thins as he hauls her forward. She ducks her head like she's shy; Naomi and I both know it's way more than that.
"Hi, Thorne." She laughs as if she's just said something brilliant. "It's funny because that's what I call Mike!"
She rubs a hand over my dad's chest and it takes everything I have in me not to sneer. My dad lifts her hand to his lips, showcasing the world's biggest diamond ring.
"That's right, baby girl."
"You two are married?" I blurt out. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills right now. "What the fuck, Dad?"
"Whoa, language," he admonishes me. "And we're engaged, thank you very much."
"Not for long, though." Naomi smiles at me and twines her arm around my dad's neck. "We just love each other too damn much to wait."
My dad looks at her like she's the only woman in the world. Which is odd, since the last time I went to dinner with him, he didn't mention getting engaged to my ex. That was months ago, though, so who knows if they were together back then.
"Sugar bear, why don't you go grab another drink from the bar? Let me talk to my boy here for a minute."
Naomi kisses him, loud and smacking, before he swats her on the rear. With a giggle, she heads off.
Dad turns to me, throws an arm around my shoulders, and tightens his embrace so it's more of a headlock than friendly tussle. "Come on. Let's go somewhere quieter."
I shoot him a look that could melt steel beams.
"After you."
He leads the way out of the packed ballroom, to a terrace that's darkened and empty. Before I can get a word in, he sighs like it's inconvenient to have to explain things to me. "Listen, son. Naomi is a nice girl—"
"I know just how nice she is." I grit my teeth. "She and I dated for a year. She was too young for me. She makes you look fossilized, you sunbaked piece of leather."
His jaw tics. "You can't set an age limit on these things."
"That's what old men who date young women always say!" I throw my hands up. "And you're supposed to be engaged? Do you know how fucked up this is? I can count the layers, Dad."
He takes a deep breath, then surprises me with, "I love her, son."
That wasn't what I expected him to say. I scrub the back of my neck. "Dad, I dated her. I already know that she's kind of a gold digger."
"This is different. I'm telling you, kid. She resisted dating me. She didn't want to get engaged too soon. And she asked me to—" He pauses, sucking in a breath. "To talk to you before we saw you tonight."
"You did a great job with that one, Dad. Way to start a marriage with mutual respect. I'm really glad that my ex is your dream girl." Disappointment threatens to drown me. "Does Mom know?"
Dad flinches. "Not really."
"You don't want to maybe fill her in before some reporter surprises her with the happy news?" I take his measure, then groan. "Oh, no. You want me to do it."
"Tell her or don't." My dad shrugs, looking out into the distance. "Your mom doesn't want to talk to me."
"No. I bet she thanks her lucky stars every day that she's divorced from your ass."
He doesn't even have the decency to look properly ashamed. "Look—"
Whatever he was going to say is cut off when an exit door opens and Mollie pops her head out to look for me. Our gazes connect and she mouths, “You okay?”
Dad turns toward her. If I felt protective of Mollie before I found out about Naomi, now I'm fucking rabid. I hold up two fingers, asking her for two minutes.
She bobs her head and vanishes. My dad, the wily old bastard that he is, asks, "That your date?"
I start toward the door. "Call Mom. Don't make me tell her that you're marrying someone half her age. And god help us all when a journalist figures out that she used to date me. Our breakup was very public and very one-sided. I’ll let you consider that.
" And with that, I let myself back into the gala.
On stage, a woman is just beginning to call the crowd to attention. But fuck if I'm staying to hear them glaze my father.
My eyes land on Mollie. She moves closer, tugging my head down to whisper, "Are you okay?"
"No," I say bluntly. "I have to go.”
She frowns. “What? Why?”
My head pounds. “I’ll tell you later. Will you come with me?”
“Sure.” Darting a look out into the crowd, Mollie nods. “Do you want to leave first and I’ll follow?”
Fuck. Yeah, I kind of forgot that she’s off-limits and we’re not publicly a thing. If we were, I’d be able to pull her out of here and wrap my coat around her shoulders.
“You go.” I tilt my head to the exit. “I’ll be right behind you.”
After a couple of minutes of awkward goodbyes to my teammates, I head outside to find Mollie waiting. We don’t talk as we wait for the valet, but I do brush my hand against the small of her back. Her breath hitches with excitement as the car pulls up.
“Finally,” I mutter. I rush her into the backseat of the chauffeured car.
The door closes behind me. Mollie grabs my hand, pulling it into her lap. Before she can even say anything, I grab her and kiss her, hard and possessive.