Page 58 of College Hockey Bully

God, this should not be so difficult.“I wanted to ask for permission to date your daughter, sir,” I finally manage, my back straight, eyes in firm contact with his.

Her parents exchange a look.

“Why?” he asks.

A simple word, but I hear his reservation behind it. “We got off on the wrong foot, I know that, but I’d love a chance to prove I’m not the terrible person you think I am. I like your daughter. I’d appreciate getting to know her more.”

“I still don’t understand. There are plenty of girls to choose from on your side of the world; why her?”

Valid question; one I asked myself quite often in the earlier days, when she kept popping up in my head. “Because she makes me happy. I haven’t been happy in a long time.”

Scarlett’s mom gasps softly. Her father uncrosses his arms, his expression clearing a little. “If I find out that you broke my little girl’s heart, I’m coming for you, understood? I don’t care who your folks are.”

“Understood,” I reply.

He looks me up and down again before stepping aside. “She’s in her room,” he informs me. “Last door.”

In less than ten steps, I knock on the plywood door and it opens at once, swinging halfway. Scarlett lies on her stomach in bed, a huge book resting in front of her, her head bopping to music coming through her headphones. She glances up at the sudden movement and lets out a startled scream. In the living room, her father shoots up from his seat, but relaxes when he sees me still standing by the door.

“Aiden? What are you doing here? You startled the heck out of me,” Scarlett breathes, coming to the door.

“Sorry. I thought the door was locked. Banged much harder than necessary,” I reply.

“I’m still waiting to hear what you’re doing here.” She pokes her head out and sees her dad on the couch. “And why are you still alive?” she whispers.

I shrug, not hiding a smirk. “Turns out I’m way more charming than I give myself credit for.”

She smirks back. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

My body jerks as she suddenly yanks me inside the bedroom. There’s not much in here; just a twin bed, a dresser and a tiny closet, with posters of people I assume are medical pioneers—well, based on the white coats they’re wearing. Like the rest of the house, it’s spotless. It smells divinely like her.

“Okay, what’s with this attire?” she asks, pointing at me. “Heading out to a fancy date?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her smile fades. “That was a joke.”

“Well, an accurate joke,” I reply.

With a scoff, she marches back to the door. “Well, have fun on your date. I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased knowing you stopped here first.”

“I’m sure she would appreciate that, actually.” Calmly, I face her, already getting off from how pissed she is. Jealousy was never an attractive trait until now. “Considering she lives here.”

It takes a moment for her brain to process what I just said. “You’re asking me out on a date?”

I nod.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

Scarlett scoffs, running her hand up and down my form. “I have nothing in my closet that comes close to what you’re wearing.”

“That’s not an issue. Your only problem is getting ready within an hour. We have a reservation at eight.”

She gapes. “Are you serious?”

I grin.

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