Page 35 of Pucking Dirty

His lips curve into a grin. "You were supposed to knock."

"When have I ever?" I cry, throwing my hands out wide.

His shoulders shake with the force of his laughter. "Ask your question."

I hesitate as the waitress cuts across the checkered floor toward us to take our order. My stomach is in knots, so I just order eggs and toast. My dad orders half the menu, like usual.

"Do you ever regret giving up your career for me?" I blurt, chewing on my bottom lip as soon as she walks away.

"What the fuck?" he growls, his brows winging together as he glares at me. "What kind of bullshit question is that, Emilia?"

"I don't know," I whisper, dropping my gaze to my hands. "You hate the thought of me dating a hockey player so much. It took me months to convince you to let me take this job! Part of me has always felt like it's because the association between relationships and hockey is so negative for you, personally. And I guess I wonder how much of that is because of me." My shouldersbounce in a shrug. "If you hadn't decided to keep me, you'd have been able to play a lot longer than you did. Maybe you and my mom would have worked out. Without me, your life would have turned out a lot different."

"You're right," he says, and an entire section of my heart shears away. Tears spring to my eyes. I blink rapidly, keeping my gaze firmly on the table. "My life would have turned out differently. I would have kept playing. Maybe your mom would have stuck around a while longer. And I would have missed out on the best goddamn thing I've ever done."

I jerk my gaze up, staring at him in shock. The look on his face… Good lord. It makes my damn soul quiver. I've seen my dad angry before. I've seen him disappointed. But I don't think I've ever seen him look so righteously furious.

"I didn't choose being a father over my career. There was no choice. You'remydaughter," he growls. "You will always come first. And you will always be the crowning achievement in my life. A few more years playing a sport will never compete with that, Emilia. Your mother sure as hell didn't. You think I wanted to tie my life to someone willing to walk away from a child we created? You aren't the reason I lost her. You're the reason I found out who she was. I don't regret that, Emilia. Not for a second."

"Dad," I whisper, flinging myself out of my seat. I crawl into his side of the booth, snuggling up against him like I used to do when I was a little girl.

He drops a kiss on my forehead and then sighs. "It pisses me off that you don't know that already, kid."

"I know it," I say. "I just…"

"Just what?"

"I guess I'm just trying to understand why you're so dead set against me dating a hockey player." I glance up at him in time to see his brows slash together, suspicion ripping through his gaze.

Crap.

"Who the fuck are you trying to date, Emilia?"

"No one," I lie, sliding away from him. "I'm just curious."

"Why?"

"Because I don't understand you! You act like they're terrible guys who can't be trusted, but you love them. You've dedicated half of your life to supporting them. It doesn't make sense. I've spent time around them now, and most of them are incredible men. I mean, some of them aren't the greatest when it comes to relationships, but some of them are amazing."

"Give me a name, Emilia Anne," he growls.

I think about it. For about five seconds, I consider telling him that I'm in love with Nash. But I see the stubborn intractability stamped across his face and the fire in his eyes, and I know exactly how that'll end. He doesn't want a name because he's going to be rational about it. He wants one so he can put a stop to what he thinks is a mistake on my part.

He's never going to approve of this. He's never going to see reason. To him, I'm always going to be the little girl he needs to protect. I can work for the team. I can be an adult in that way. But in his eyes, I'll never truly be capable of making my own decisions for my life, especially if they involve a member of the team.

Nash will never be good enough for me as far as he's concerned, simply because he plays hockey. And the real irony of the situation? The part that's the most fucked up? He's the only one who has ever seen me for me instead of as my father's daughter. He's exactly the guy my dad would have chosen for me if he weren't so damn biased because he's on his team. But he'll never think Nash is good enough, simply because Nash plays this sport.

How incredibly demoralizing.

"There is no name," I mutter in defeat. "There's never been any name except yours, Dad. It's the only one anyone has ever heard. "

"What does that mean?"

"Why do you think I've never dated anyone? All they hear is your name, and suddenly, they either want to date me because I'm your kid, or they won't come anywhere near me because I'm your kid. Your name is all they hear. It's always about you," I sigh, sliding from the booth. "What I want never even enters the equation. It's never even been on the board with the equation. That's never going to change."

"Emilia–"

"I've gotta go." I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "See you at work."

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