Chapter Sixteen
Jesse
What do you get someone as an apology gift for being a fuck waffle? Everything I can think of is never good enough, and I doubt Belle would want anything from me right now anyway.
I left a string of Hershey kisses that started at her bedroom door and ended at her office, where I put her favorite coffee and breakfast sandwich beside her laptop.
I had a feeling she would stay in her room until I left, so I wasn’t going to knock or try getting her to talk to me.
Breakfast was my first peace offering, which she didn’t say anything about.
Today, I got a bag of pastries from her favorite bakery near the stadium after I finished my morning workout at the team gym.
Coach Hoffman went with me because he said his wife had been craving a sweet treat that he had yet to perfect in the kitchen.
We left after he showed me pictures of his youngest daughter, Harper, cuddling with his oldest girl, Gemma, and his wife’s service dog Puck.
They make a cute family, and it stirs something deep inside me that I usually keep dormant.
A desire for that life. To be called dad. To wear a wedding band. To share my last name with somebody I care about.
The conversation Belle and I had last week comes back to mind the entire drive home.
Did she agree to have dinner with Dane not only for work, but because part of her wants to fulfill that same desire?
She thinks Dane is a great guy who her mother would approve of.
On the outside, he seems like a good fit for her.
I may not like it, but I can see it. Would she be willing to look past the one key element she admitted to me?
He’s not you. They aren’t you.
That slammed into me like a freight train, and I didn’t know what to say. Flattery can’t touch me when she admits something so vulnerable while looking so hurt by it. I couldn’t be happy that she compared other men to me if it meant she was miserable. Where does that leave us?
My cyclone of thoughts is broken by my father’s name flashing across the Bluetooth screen. I accept the call because it means not thinking for once, and I need that escape.
“Hey, Dad,” I greet him.
The man who’s been one of my best friends my whole life asks, “What’s wrong?”
He’s supposed to distract me with whatever reason he called, not suck me back into the thoughts spiraling in my head. “Nothing,” I lie, frowning at the windshield. “What are you up to?”
Dad pauses. “I can hear it in your voice, kid. Something is up.”
Dammit. Why couldn’t I get one of those fathers who was aloof to my problems? “I’m good. I just…” Do I tell him? There’s only so much I can say without being able to go back. “I hurt Belle.”
“Ahh.” He says, as if it makes total sense.
Ah? What does ‘ah’ mean.
Dad makes a thoughtful noise. “Tell me what happened, and we can figure out how to fix it,” he offers. That simple. He doesn’t think twice about it.
I stop for a redlight. “I’m not sure I can,” I admit, feeling a little uncomfortable by this line I’m teetering on.
His sigh is light. “Anything can be fixed, son. Especially between the two of you.”
I can hear that he believes the truth in that, but that’s because he doesn’t know what a jackass I’ve been. How selfish I’ve been. Or if he does know I’m capable of being those things, he thinks I have the ability to make up for it.
Blowing out a breath so hard that I can hear my father chuckle, I admit what I did. “I may have dragged a few of my teammates out to crash her date last night.”
I’m met with silence for way longer than I expect. I think the call dropped until I glance over at the screen to see him still connected.
“Dad?” I ask, frowning. “You there?”
He clears his throat. “I’m here.” There’s another pregnant pause. “Is there a reason you crashed her date? This is with the contractor, right? Nora said he was a decent guy.”
Yeah, that’s what I keep hearing.
Wetting my lips, I grip the steering wheel. “I just felt weird about it, okay?”
He hums. “Is there a reason for that?”
Is he really not letting this go?
“Look,” he says when I don’t answer him. “I know you two are…close. You’ve been close for a very long time. And I don’t know what you’re into, but—”
“What I’m ‘into’?” I ask hesitantly, feeling the need to cut in and figure out where this conversation is going because my gut is saying it’s nowhere fun.
“You know…” His throat clears again, obviously uncomfortable. “If it’s a physical reaction, then that’s one thing. Nora read an article once that stepsibling porn was one of the highest watched videos on sex sites and—”
Kill me now. “Nope. Absolutely fucking not. We’re not talking about porn. This is worse than the time you found that copy of Sports Illustrated under my bed, and I’d rather not relive the conversation.”
I’d been twelve, and he told me all about how bodies change as we get older.
Then he’d started to tell me all about masturbation with a serious look on his face, saying that was better than having sex and getting somebody pregnant before I was ready.
As soon as I went back up to my room, I threw the magazine away.
Dad has the decency to laugh, although it sounds a bit stained.
“All I’m trying to say is that I know you’ve always been protective of her.
You care about Belle. Nora and I both can see the bond you two have.
And we’ve always, uh, wondered if there was more than friendship there.
Like I said, it’s one thing if this were some sort of physical attraction.
Belle is pretty and relationships can grow as we get older. ”
“What the fuck, Dad,” I groan, wanting to steer my car into the cement barrier to end this awkward conversation.
This is definitely not what I thought I’d be talking about with my father. Is Nora there? Is she listening in? I wonder if Belle is going to get a call from her mom about this, and I really hope not. I have a feeling there’d be a strong level of mortification that I’d rather take the brunt of.
“Can we not—” My voice cracks a little. “—do this right now? I’m driving home and I don’t know if I’m in the mood to talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he tries telling me, but I don’t buy it.
I scoff. “My father asking if I’m physically attracted to my stepsister and into that kind of pornography warrants some level of embarrassment,” I counter dryly.
His amusement isn’t hidden. “Fair point. But those seem like justifiable questions. I love Belle like a daughter, but I always knew you never saw her as a sister.”
I choke on air at the statement spoken so confidently. “Nope,” I all but wheeze out.
Dad doesn’t seem to hear my distress. “Oh, come on. I didn’t raise a prude. Since when are you so sensitive about these topics?”
Since they have to do with Belle, I answer silently. That’s not a reply I’m going to vocalize for my mental wellbeing. “We’ve never exactly broached this territory before,” I defend. We may be close, but we’ve never talked about girls outside of him telling me to practice safe sex.
He seems to consider that. “Let me ask you this,” he presses lightly. “Do you want to fix this with Belle?”
Of course I do. “Yes.”
“Why?”
What kind of question is that? “Because I hate knowing she’s upset, and I hate more that I’m the reason for it.”
“But why?” he asks again, this time sounding like he’s trying to draw an answer from me that I’m not getting.
“You need to think about that, Jess. It’s one thing to crash a date if you think she’s going out with a tool.
God knows Nora has thought about doing that with a couple of guys from Belle’s past. I had to convince her not to.
But this guy, Dane, doesn’t seem so bad from what I’ve heard.
So unless there’s something you’re not telling us, I think you need to figure out why you’re so upset about it that you felt the need to step in. ”
The problem is, I don’t need to think about it. I think the topic was covered last night when Belle called me out for being jealous. But if I tell my dad that, it confirms things that will lead to conversations that go past what a mid-thirties man wants to discuss with his sixty-year-old father.
I swallow. “I love her, Dad.”
It’s not some scandalous admission that nobody would have ever thought I’d say.
Belle and I have told each other that plenty of times in the past. When we’d grown close my last year of high school and I’d go away for games, she’d say “love you” to both my father and I when we left.
Or when I went to Denver for college, and I’d come back whenever I could on breaks or between my game schedule and she’d give me a tight hug at the door and would look just a little bit sad whenever I’d have to leave again.
We’d exchange heartfelt “love yous” and somber “goodbyes” knowing we’d see each other soon enough but still being sad from the distance.
So when Dad says, “I know you do, kid,” it’s because he does. Nora knows I love Belle. Belle knows I love Belle. And I know I love Belle. You’d have to be an idiot not to love somebody as kind-hearted as her.
I rub my lips together as I near our street, slowing down and putting my blinker on. “Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what to do.”
He chuckle is low. “Nah. That’s up to you. It’s up to the both of you. But take it from me, Jesse. All choices we make in life present risks. You have to decide which ones you’re willing to make and deal with whatever consequences may come from them.”
That doesn’t sound promising, but it’s not untrue either. I can’t fault him for heeding the warning, even if I don’t want to hear it. After all, he’s not telling me not to love Belle. He’s simply pointing out that I can risk losing her no matter how I choose to love her.
“And Dad?” I ask, opening the garage using the button in my car. “Please don’t ever bring up porn again.”