Page 82 of Playoff

“He’s a man, Dad, not a boy. And he’s not the same teenager he was a decade ago.”

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. “I don’t care how old he is—I still want to kick his skinny ass.”

“He’s not so skinny,” I say, chuckling. “And you’d better not say or do anything to embarrass me. No one knows we’reinvolved, and it has to stay that way because I don’t want to lose my job.”

“You’re risking your job for this guy?” he demands. “Why, Rowan? You’re beautiful and successful and a great catch—you can’t tell me there aren’t any other men in Los Angeles!”

There are, but none that make me feel like Blake does.

That’s almost impossible to explain to my dad, though.

“Dad, I know you don’t approve, but I’m a grown woman and you have to let me live my life the way I see fit. It’s not serious yet, we’re kind of finding our footing again, and I promise I’ll be careful.”

That part, at least, is true.

When I told Blake I could forgive but I would never forget, I wasn’t kidding. It’s hard to not think about what happened in the past, no matter how good things are in the present. He’s promised he’s not the same guy he was then, and that’s fair because we were eighteen and both of us were a little immature. But I still worry about the emotional power he has over me.

“Well, he better not mess with you again or he’ll answer to me,” Dad rumbles, folding his arms over his chest.

I love his protectiveness, but I need him to give Blake a chance.

“Dad, you have to promise me you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s not the same kid he was when we knew him. We’ve both done a lot of growing up. Not to mention, he has enough going on with his dad without you starting trouble too.”

Dad seems to be considering that. “Yeah, I saw the stuff on the news about his dad. What the hell was he thinking? I mean, he was obviously drunk.”

“They don’t have a good relationship as it is.” I explain a little about what’s been going on since Blake turned pro. “Blake had no plans to invite them to any more games but then his dadcalled and apologized so he wanted to give him another chance. And it blew up in his face.”

“Well, to be fair, the only one who looks bad in this scenario is his father. Blake seemed to handle it with dignity.” He says the last part grudgingly.

But my dad is nothing if not fair, and I breathe a mental sigh of relief because this tells me he’s going to be open-minded.

At least, I hope so.

I takeDad to practice with me in the morning. It’s not the first time he’s been here and came to work with me, and a lot of the guys recognize him.

“Yo! Mr. Taylor!” Connor comes over and high fives him.

“Hey, Connor.” Dad and Connor do some fancy handshake thing that I can never figure out. How and when did my dad learn it when I never have?

“Mr. T!” Ivan comes over and gives dad a big bear hug.

“You doin’ okay, big guy?” Dad asks him. “I was nervous when you missed the first few games after the accident.”

“Eh. I’m Russian. We have very hard heads.”

“That’s for sure,” I say, just loud enough for Ivan to hear.

He just laughs.

While my father is busy saying hello to everyone, I go in search of Blake. I’d warned him my dad was coming in and also that he’s not all that pleased with him.

“Hey.” Blake meets me in the hallway near my office. “How’s things?”

“Dad’s fine, in his glory talking to the guys.”

“Should I avoid him?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Go over and say hello. Shake his hand. Be polite. Most people know we dated in high school, so it stands to reason you know my father.”

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