Page 111 of Rebel Bride
“Can I give you a ride?”
“My car’s outside—well, Rosie’s is. But I had a couple of drinks so I’m going to Uber it and pick my car up tomorrow.”
“No need for that. Let me.”
She tilted her head. “And then what happens?”
“Well, I have this thousand-piece puzzle I just started. Come in and help with that.” I waggled my eyebrows, which made her laugh.
She gently brushed my chest with her fingertips. “I think you should stay and talk to your dad.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Oh, I know that feeling. But it still needs to happen, so why not tell him what’s on your mind?”
“Because it would hurt him. Also, there’s a good chance it won’t happen. I might have delayed it too long.” Lauren said Tampa was getting antsy about my wavering. And after my chat with Ryder earlier, I felt a little more hopeful about my place on the team.
“Do you still want to leave Chicago?”
“I thought I did. But then you happened.”
She frowned. Had I misread this? I wanted to stay in Chicago for my family and for the woman before me. I would do whatever it took to make it happen.
“You can’t make this call based on me. I’ve told you that I don’t want a relationship?—”
“And you certainly don’t want one with your ex’s teammate. But this is where we are.”
“Dash does complicate things, but that’s not it, or only it. I want to focus on my career, my future, myself. I won’t follow you, Hatch. And I don’t expect you to make a career decision based on where I am.”
Like I already had?
Her phone buzzed. “That’s my Uber.” She reached up and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Go talk to your dad. Everything else can wait.”
I headed into the kitchen. Dad was tidying up while Mom sat at the island, sipping the last of the wine.
“Tilly already in bed?”
“Yeah, I just put her down.” My mom gave me a significant look, stood, and kissed my cheek. “I’m going to head up and do a little work on my laptop.”
“Thanks for dinner, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. It was nice for Summer, I think.”
“I suppose it was.”
She grinned at me. Damn, did everyone know?
As soon as she left, I leaned against the counter. “Need help, Dad?”
“Just with what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.”
Okay. Straight to it. “I’ve loved working with you, playing with you, fighting with you, but I haven’t enjoyed the comparisons so much. I’m not as thick-skinned as you. And I’m not sure I’ve played as well on this team as I did in Denver. Look at how I messed up that goal in the last game.”
“So you made a mistake. We all do that. Are you really blaming the pressure of being on the same roster as your dad?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s pressure. There’s always pressure. And I was happy to come on board because this was going to be a big year for you. I wanted to win with you. For you. When we didn’t, I worried I’d let you down.”
My father came forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You could never let me down. So your year wasn’t as good as you would have liked. Every player has good years and bad, and the press can be pricks at the best of times. But I wonder if there’s more to it.”
