Page 120 of Unwritten Rules
Holding my breath, I turn the handle and step into the room. Dad’s eyes lock with mine from over the desktop. They’re hard as they watch my movements. The conversation hasn’t started yet and he already looks pissed. I suppose that’s my fault for avoiding him like the plague for over a week.
“Tatum,” he drawls, leaning back on the leather chair. Dad is dressed casually in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The olive tint to his skin stands in stark contrast to the white, making his eyes pop. “Are you finally done with pretending like I don’t exist?”
I lower myself onto one of the plush chairs in front of the desk, wringing my hands together. “Dad, I’m sorry about that. I just… wasn’t ready to talk.”
“But you are now?”
I nod. “I am.”
Dad exhales a sharp breath and folds his hands over his stomach. “Then let’s talk, Tate.”
Rolling my lips together, I nod.
It’s now or never.
“I’ll go first,” Dad says, tone even. “Let me just say?—”
“Actually, let me go first,” I interject. “I, um… I have a lot I need to get off my chest and if I don’t do it now…”
Dad nods, allowing me to take the lead and get the ball rolling. He’s not going to like the direction I’m about to take this, but I know that if I don’t say what I need to, the chances of me chickening out are much higher.
“I apologise for how I’ve been treating you this past week, but just know it’s because I was hurt,” I tell him, voice wavering. Exhaling a long breath, I run a hand down the side of my face, skin inflamed. “You refused to listen to my side of the story, Dad. I thought we had a better relationship than that.”
Dad sighs, the sound filled with an emotion I can only assume is frustration. “Tate… You know I trust you. I just don’t trusthim.”
Heat floods my veins. “Hehas a name, Dad. Andheis just as much part of this as I am.”
“I know, and that’s the problem.” Dad runs a hand down the side of his face, scratching at his jaw. “Sinnett knew the rule I had put in place to protect you, and he went behind my back to break it. I trusted him, Tate. I thought out of everyone on that team, he would be the one guy who respected me enough to not go there with my daughter.”
Hurt and betrayal wrap around each word, hitting me in the chest harder than I thought. I didn’t know the extent of Dad’s relationship with Sinnett. They’ve known each other for years, at least since Sinnett joined the main roster, but I was unaware of just how deep their bond ran. Turns out, it’s far deeper than I thought.
“Dad, he didn’t do it because he doesn’t respect you,” I try to reason, not knowing if it’ll work or not. “Our history… It’s complicated.”
Dad’s brows crease into a frown. “What do you mean by complicated?”
God. How am I supposed to explain this to him without giving all of the details that will want to make him stuff his fingers in his ears and scream at the top of his lungs?
“Well…” I drawl, lifting my shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “We, uh… met in Barrenridge the night before I moved down here. He was there to help his sister move in with their grandmother. And, well…”Why is it so hard to admit this to my father?“We hooked up.” The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them, and judging by the way Dad’s eyes widen, I should’ve been more delicate with my answer.
“Youwhat?” he roars, making me cringe at the volume of his reaction.
“I didn’t know who he was, I swear,” I rush to tell him. “I promise, Dad. When I saw him… he looked vaguely familiar but I didn’t know who he was until I saw him at the game a week later.”
“Tate,” Dad groans, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. “You really shouldn’t be putting yourself in danger like that.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Dad, I’m not a little girl anymore. I know how to look after myself. Besides, I didn’t feel unsafe with Sinnett. If anything, he made me feel comfortable.”
Dad groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not helping, Tate.”
Needing to steer the conversation from the topic of my sex life back to the problem at hand, I shift on the seat and gesture between us. “This is kind of my point exactly. The silly rule you made up to keep me from dating anyone on the team was purely for your benefit. You don’t view me as a grown woman who can make decisions for myself and has my best interest at heart. In your mind, I’m still a little girl who would run to you whenever I scraped my knee and needed it to be cleaned up or whenever I was lost with my maths homework and you would help me solve the equation without so much as raising your voice when I still didn’t understand.”
“You’ll always be my little girl,” Dad says, voice even. His eyes flick across my face, as if picturing me as the same girl he remembers when I was growing up. “It doesn’t matter if you’re five, twenty, forty or sixty-two. No matter what, I’ll do everything I can to protect you, even if you don’t think you need it.”
I understand where he’s coming from, I do. Every father should feel this way about their kids because it shows how far they’re willing to go for them. Having that unconditionalsupport and quiet protection can make or break a relationship. But there is also that fine line of being overbearing or too protective to the point where you can’t breathe or feel as though your decisions are not yours anymore.
“Dad, I understand what you’re saying and I appreciate how willing you are to help keep me safe, but listen to me when I say I don’t need it in this scenario.”
Dad’s frown is so deep I could very well swim between the creases. “Yes, you do. I’m doing this because it’s in your best interest. Your mother and I?—”
