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)
“We should go to bed, babe. I have to—”
“I told him to fuck off,” he blurted. “And it didn’t feel so great.”
I covered his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. But I had to say something. It would have been worse to let it go. I just…I wish I could figure out how to give him what he wants. I really do. The kid inside me isn’t going anywhere. That kid would do anything to impress him. But adult me”—Gabe squinted at the television before meeting my gaze—“is grateful to have you on my side.”
I smiled and lifted his hand to my lips. “I’m not going anywhere, Ebab.”
Gabe tugged my elbow and pulled me against him. “I know.”
I laid my head on his chest and sighed. I’d thought about telling him Cam said he was their dad’s favorite, but that wouldn’t help anything. I wasn’t a parent, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t cool to let your kids think you favored one sibling over another. Gabe wouldn’t be impressed. It might even piss him off. And something told me his dad loved his sons equally. He just really sucked at showing it.
5
Gabe
Sunlight glinted off the countertop, highlighting a few rogue crumbs. I swiped the sponge across the surface, then washed my hands and glanced at my watch. I had an hour before my first practice of the day. Enough time to—
Ding dong.
The only people who rang the doorbell in the morning were usually delivering a package. I hadn’t ordered anything, but maybe Derek did. I’d bring it in when I left in a bit.
Ding dong.
Or now. I trudged to the front door, checked the peephole, and opened it.
“Dad?”
My father jolted to attention. He pulled his hands from his pockets and lifted one corner of his mouth in a weak smile. “Hi. I went by the café. Derek mentioned I might find you at home. Can I come in?”
“Um…yeah.” I stepped aside to let him by. “Where’s Cam?”
“He’s having breakfast at Bonne Terre. Derek said something about French toast on brioche bread and…it wasn’t a hard sell.”
“Wise man. It’s one of my favorites.” I closed the door and moved into the adjoining living area.
I couldn’t remember if my father had ever been here, but the way he craned his neck as if taking in details answered my question. He didn’t come to California often and when he did, we met for dinner somewhere neutral or on a pool deck. Yep, this was a first.
“This is a nice home,” he commented.
“Thanks. We’re in the process of buying it from Derek’s parents. If everything goes smoothly, we’ll be homeowners after the Olympics. We have some renovations to do, but those might have to wait.”
I made myself shut up. I was rambling big-time, trying to impress him. God, I was hopeless.
“Wow, that’s great. Congratulations.”
“It’s not a done deal, but…thanks. Uh, did you want something to drink?” I asked politely.
“No, thanks. I came to apologize,” he said softly.
“Okay…”
Dad rubbed his stubbled chin, fixating on the photo of Derek and me on the fireplace mantel. It was taken at Christmastime at the pre-opening party at the bistro. We were on cloud nine that night. Everything went beautifully. The food was terrific, the staff was professional, and our guests, who happened to be some of our closest friends and relatives, were there for us. Derek and I had our arms around each other, big goofy smiles on our faces. We’d danced to Christmas carols before locking up, riding an incredible high. Knowing Derek, he’d invited my father.
He didn’t come and I wasn’t surprised. I wondered now if he regretted all the things he never showed up for.
He sighed deeply, perching on the end of the sectional. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”
I sat on the armchair opposite him, resting my elbows on my knees in an uber-relaxed pose that in no way reflected how I really felt. My gut churned unhappily. If I’d known he was coming by, I would have skipped breakfast.
“What for?” I prodded in a huskier than usual tone.
“Being…absent.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. If I forgive you, does that erase it? Does it make everything cool? I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Another chance.” He looked away for a moment, then met my gaze. His eyes were tormented and tired, as if he’d been up all night. “I didn’t know that you felt…abandoned. You were a happy kid. Always smiling, always enthusiastic. You had your surly teenage stage, but everyone does to some degree. I didn’t know it was me. Do I have excuses? Maybe. Your mom and I weren’t compatible. You were the only thing we had in common, and it wasn’t enough to build a lasting relationship on. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t enough. You were—you are…more than enough.”