Page 73 of Chips & Checks
So I don’t say anything. I just let Dad hold me a little longer, because if I open my mouth, I’m scared the truth will comespilling out—along with the tears I’ve been trying so hard not to cry.
Chapter Eighteen
Bowen
“I can’t believe Briggs has apool.” Dad leans back in one of the loungers and folds his hands behind his head. “Tierney, sweetheart, how come we’ve never had a pool?”
I should be uncomfortable. Surrounded by family, parents chatting on porches, Violet’s dad making casual dad-joke threats about my intentions. Briggs obviously clocked my reaction to Chad yesterday, so he knows something is going on behind the scenes between me and Violet. This is the kind of scene that should have me reaching for an exit strategy.
Instead, I’m weirdly settled. Like this isn’t my worst nightmare—it’s something I could get used to. A lazy pool day with people who give a shit. Watching Violet laugh with her mom earlier. Seeing my parents fit in like they’ve always been part of the picture.
It’s not just tolerable. It’s… nice. And that’s what’s throwing me. Because this isn’t supposed to be my life.
“Because it would freeze over six months of the year.” Mom is still on the porch, making sure she doesn’t miss an inch of her skin with the high-SPF sunscreen she probably bought just for this trip. She’s sitting next to Layla; Violet and Briggs are still inside. I have no idea where Lenyx ran off to.
“Right, right.” Dad lets out a contented sigh. “Good thing we get to enjoy yours, now that you live in the desert.” He tilts his head toward me and adjusts his sunglasses. “And speaking of hot…”
“Oh my God,don’t.” I make a move for the porch.
“Slow down, kid. We came all this way. I think I’ve earned a little hot goss.” He pats the seat of the chair beside him.
I reluctantly sit down, though I keep my feet on the pool deck in case I have to make a hasty getaway. “We can talk if you swear to never use the words ‘hot goss’ again.”
Dad grins. “I know. Talking with the pops. Not cool. I get it.”
I rub my temples. “You’re about two sentences away from claiming that you’re hip with the lingo.”
“Well, Iam.” He lowers his sunglasses down his nose so that we can make eye contact and wiggles his eyebrows. “Your old man, he’s got rizz.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I rake my hand across my face.
From the porch, Mom calls, “Language!”
This is ridiculous. I need a beer.
Dad must sense that I’m at the end of my tether, because he pats the air, gesturing for me to chill out. “Just kidding. This is the serious part. I had a long talk with your mother on the flight down. I wondered where I’d gone wrong.”
“What?” My head jolts back, like the whiplash from this conversation is physical rather than emotional. “You didn’t. You’re an amazing dad.”
“And yet, other than playing hockey, you want to be nothing like me.
“That’s not true.” A glance toward the porch reveals that Mom and Layla are deep in conversation. Lenyx has returned with what looks like cocktails. Yes, please. I’m not a huge fan of orange juice, but I’ll take anything over having a conversation with mydad,about myfeelings,sober.
“You think I didn’t have rules when I met Tickles?”
I groan and rub my face. “Please don’t call her that. Ew.”
Dad ignores me. “All my rules went out the window when I met your mother. And if you want to keep someone as amazing as Violet, then you better ditch yours. Fast.”
My defensive mouth gets ahead of my brain. “What makes you think she’s amazing?”
Dad lets his sunglasses slide farther down his nose. “I have eyes. I see how you look at her. And she was raised by Briggs, so she can hold her own. She’s tough and smart and sassy. She’s successful. She’s beautiful, and she understands the game and the lifestyle. She’s perfect for you.”
I can’t argue with a single word of his assessment. I can see the back of Violet’s head through the kitchen window; she and Briggs are in there talking, and I have to wonder if there’s any overlap between our conversations.
She throws her head back at something Briggs says, and even from this distance, I can see her laugh. Not one of those polite, practiced chuckles she gives strangers. This one’s real. Full body. The kind that lights up a whole room. My stomach clenches, tight and low.
Fuck.
