Page 100 of The Fall Out

“Pretty much only your boyfriend.” Cortney chuckled and waved at Chris.

“If someone’s going, it’s your father,” Beckett said.

My stomach sank. “Wait.” I held a hand up. I didn’t mean for that to happen.

“Not Funny,” Chris snapped, stepping closer and rubbing my back. “No one is getting fired or traded.”

My father sighed and dropped into the chair behind his desk. “I’ve had a suspicion that there was something going on between you two since you called in the middle of a game practically in tears over his father.”

“And I’ve been aware of the situation since Chris came to me the day after his ‘stomach bug.’” Cortney used air quotes on the last two words.

“Keep rubbing it in that he came to you, Man Bun,” Beckett grumbled.

“You told him?” I turned to Chris, clutching the front of his shirt.

“He came to me in confidence. He wanted to clarify that the two of you would be protected, along with your dad and the whole team. To ensure there would be no fallout that could hurt you,” Cortney explained.

Chris’s lips pulled up slightly. “I keep telling you, Blondie. I will always protect you and our relationship.”

“So, no one’s in trouble,” Cortney confirmed.

“We were here to confirm that there would be no drama.” Beckett laughed. “We’d succeeded just before you threw yourself at him and implied that he was going to be traded while you declared your love in the middle of the hallway in front of about twenty-five reporters and most of the team.”

The knots that had formed in my stomach the moment I watched the clip of Chris and my dad after the game tightened.

Chris draped his arm around me and glared. “That was the best moment of my life, so don’t mock it.”

Beckett put both hands up.

“Okay.” My father pounded on the desk. “Team shit over. Now I would like to talk to my daughter.” He met my eye, his frown smoothing out just a fraction. “And her boyfriend.”

The acknowledgment was step one.

“All right, Man Bun, our work here is done.” Beckett pushed to his feet. But he paused beside Chris. “All kidding aside, hang on to those moments that make life worth living. Not everyone is lucky enough to find them so early in life. For some of us, it takes forty years before we get to experience them.”

He patted Chris’s arm, and when Chris froze in place, trying not to flinch, Beckett chuckled. Then he was striding out the door.

“Good Luck.” With a smile, Cortney pulled the door shut.

“Sit,” my dad barked, tipping his chin to the chairs in front of his desk. That was the way my dad talked to his players, but long ago, I’d drawn a line with him. He could not speak to me in the same way.

Chris moved to sit, but I pulled on his hand to stop him and shook my head.

Dad closed his eyes and released a breath through his nose. When he opened them again, his features had softened. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Can we sit and talk about this?”

Chris almost reeled back at the drastic change.

“Dad doesn’t talk to family the way he talks to his players,” I explained, tugging Chris toward the chairs.

“I’m not ignorant as to what goes on in the locker room.” My dad scowled. “For a year, I’ve been hearing about this girl that had my pitcher in knots. Often, the talk isn’t great.”

Chris worked his jaw from side to side but didn’t speak.

“But the tone was wholly different when the guys talked about Chris’s girl.” Dad rested his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands. “He demanded a level of protection and respect for her. He was fine with his teammates mocking him, but they better respect this girl.” Sighing, he glanced at the ceiling, then back at us. “It wasn’t until January that I realized you were the girl everyone was talking about.”

I took Chris’s hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze.

My dad stared at the connection for a moment before he went on.

---