Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“No. I tried water polo when I was a kid, but it was too intense,” Cam replied with an easy grin. “I got kneed in the stomach and couldn’t breathe for like an hour.”
I snorted. “And they didn’t take you to the morgue?”
“No, but I got to switch to lacrosse.”
“Cam’s a star attacker on his high school team,” Dad bragged.
Cam rolled his eyes. “Not quite.”
“But you will be,” Dad said firmly as he scanned the pool. “Are you running a four on six here?”
“Nah, at this point, they’re goofing around. We’re almost finished.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. I was hoping to arrive sooner, but our flight was delayed. Not really a big deal, though. What time is your practice with the Olympic squad tomorrow? I imagine we need to wake up early for that one.”
I squinted behind my sunglasses. Was he for real?
“It’s a closed practice, Dad. I can’t get you in.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he replied breezily. “We can talk about it over dinner. Invite your friend. I’d love to take you guys out.”
There was so much wrong here, I didn’t know where to start.
I narrowed my eyes behind my sunglasses. “It isn’t a matter of will. It’s a non-negotiable rule. As for my friend—”
“Coach G!”
I turned to the pool and took a deep breath.
Focus, Chadwick. Job first, meddling father second.
I blew my whistle, calling an end to practice before barking orders for the boys to gather the balls and hit the showers. I oversaw the action to make sure they didn’t go rogue; then I moved into the shade next to the cinder block wall and pulled my sunglasses off.
“As I was saying…I can’t get you into my practice, Dad. Not happening. As for my friend, I’ve told you at least twenty times that Derek is my boyfriend. We live together and yes, it’s serious. So, I’m sorry you made the trip out here for nothing, but—”
“Whoa.” Dad raised his hands in surrender. “My bad. It was a slip of the tongue. I meant boyfriend. It’s all good. I like the guy. He’s cool. And don’t worry about having to put your neck on the line to get us into practice. I went to college with one of your coaches. Glen Banbridge and I played at USC back in the eighties when…”
I tuned out his “glory days” bullshit and silently seethed. My father was the biggest steamroller I’d ever met. If it wasn’t my life he was butting into at a very inopportune time, I might have been impressed. At the moment, I wasn’t sure what to do. I was two seconds away from ramming my fist into the concrete wall, but I needed my hands…almost as much as I needed my sanity. Derek was right. I had to deal with him. Soon.
Just…not in front of Cam. It wasn’t his fault our dad was a dick.
I shoved my sunglasses on my nose and sighed. “I need to talk to my team.”
“Sure thing. It’s a bit early for dinner, but we could grab a drink somewhere, son.”
Oh, joy.
I pasted a phony smile on my face and told him to meet me at Bonne Terre.
“Hey, there! I was going to call you to—” Derek set the wineglass he was drying on the bar and furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“My dad’s on his way.” I waved at Drew and Jade on the opposite end of the café before taking a quick glance around. I couldn’t decide if the pre-dinner lull made this a good place to be or if I’d inadvertently made a tactical error.
“He’s here? In town?”
“Yeah, he showed up at my practice with my club team unannounced…with my brother.”
“Oh. What do you want me to do?”
“Feed them? I don’t know. Can I leave them here and see you at home later?” I raked my fingers through my hair and bit my bottom lip.
“Nope. Nice try.” Derek set his hand over mine. “Stay calm. You’ve got this. Take one of the tables outside. I’ll bring you lattes and something to eat. You can test out my dinner specials. Your mom made the most incredible focaccia bread too and—”
“Oh, fuck. She’s not here, is she?” I asked in a mini panic.
“No, she left hours ago. Chill, babe.” He rubbed my arm soothingly. “How’s your shoulder?”
I rotated it gingerly. “Better today.”
“Good.” His gaze flitted to the front door. “Heads up. They just walked in.”
Okay, so maybe this was a good idea after all. The café was a nice, neutral zone with friendly employees, amazing food, and the lighter than usual crowd gave my dad a chance to see the bistro without craning his neck or speaking above the din of conversation.
This was the only real quiet time in the bistro. Derek usually scheduled more employees to help prepare for dinner. The floors were spotless, the bar glistened, and the dessert counter was jammed-packed with mouthwatering treats and baskets of bread loaves.