Page 67 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“So, she’s camera shy. That doesn’t make up for the fact that I heard it from my classmates instead of you,” she interjects.

“That’s true, but it does help explain why I like her, and I think that’s important.” I run my hand through my hair, the pressure of getting my words right weighing heavily on my mind. “Sam’s the first person in a really long time who couldn’t care less about my name. She doesn’t judge me by my past. She treats me like any other person. Things just feel normal with her, so I didn’t want to screw them up.”

“So, you’re saying it would screw things up if you told me about her?” Her face falls.

“No. Sort of. See, I wanted to tell you about her. I hoped to introduce you that time you and Wes came over before the game. Only Sam knows I haven’t done a good job of juggling being a dad with being a football player and dating, and she didn’t want to intrude on my time with you. And she was right not to. That was a great weekend.”

“That was, like, weeks ago. You could’ve mentioned her since.” Her wary gaze tells me she’s still not buying it.

“I know.” My shoulders slump. “I should’ve. I was afraid that would scare her off.”

“Because I wouldn’t want to be best friends with your latest arm candy?” Sawyer accuses.

“Because I was hoping she’d be the last woman I ever introduce you to, and I wanted to be sure how she felt about me before saying anything.” Sawyer’s mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, so I continue.

“Sam’s very serious about her career. She’s worried about the perception that will come from dating a client, so she didn’t want to broadcast our relationship. On top of that, she’s never even been in a relationship before. It’s outside her comfort zone, so dating a guy whose life is lived in the public eye is terrifying for her. I convinced her to take a chance on me, so I felt the need to shield her from the outside world. I knew I couldn’t do that forever, but I hoped to do it long enough that her feelings for me would outweigh her fears.”

“I’m not the outside world, Dad,” Sawyer says softly.

A jolt of pain travels through my chest. She doesn’t call me Dad all that often, and hearing the endearment on top of the defeat in her voice is worse than any loss I’ve suffered on the field.

“No, you’re not.” I look at the ground, so I don’t have to see the hurt in her eyes. “I guess I still haven’t figured out how to be a dad and a boyfriend and a ball player all at once.”

“You were doing okay there for a while. Over the summer.” It’s an olive branch I don’t deserve, but I guess she understands I didn’t hurt her intentionally. She’s always been forgiving like that when it comes to my parental screw ups.

“The season hadn’t started yet.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “And I knew Hadley wasn’t the one, so I wasn’t exactly going out of my way to make her happy.”

“You’re saying Sam is the one?” Sawyer’s expression is blank, giving me no clue how she feels.

“Kinda shit timing, I know.” I chuckle without any humor. “You’ve already got one new family; you don’t need me adding another to the mix.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Her eyes grow wide, and it takes me a second before I realize why.

“No. God no. I’m just talking about Sam, not…there isn’t…no.” I rush to assure her.

“Okay, that’s good. I mean, no offense, but you’re screwing up what’s already on your plate. Adding another kid would be disastrous.” Her eyes dart to the ground. She’s right, but she feels guilty saying it.

“No offense taken, kiddo.” I smile slightly so she knows I’m not upset, but her words get me thinking. Sam’s young enough she might want a family one day, and based on my track record so far, I’m probably not the guy to give it to her.

I’ve matured since Sawyer was born. I don’t need an outlet from the rigors of the game the way I used to, and I’ve even gotten better at juggling my responsibilities. Sawyer hasn’t seen much evidence of that, but I know it’s true or Sam would’ve let me know I was dropping the ball. I’m apparently still shit at being a dad, though.

“I’m sorry I’m not the kind of dad you deserve.” I bring my eyes to hers so there’s no doubt about my sincerity.

“It’s okay. It’s not like you had an example to follow since your dad was never around.”

“Don’t make excuses for me,” I tell her firmly.

Growing up without a dad wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t traumatizing either. It’s just how things were. I don’t give it much thought anymore, and I’ve never used it as a crutch for my shortcomings, so I won’t let Sawyer do that now.

“My mom set a great example. I just didn’t follow it. Maybe I was afraid to be a parent or too selfish to do it well. Probably both. I let myself believe you needed your mom more than me and didn’t try hard enough. There’s no excuse for that. I know that now. Or thought I did.” I let out a frustrated breath. “Obviously, I still have more to learn.”

“Why do you suddenly sound hopeless?” Sawyer picks up on the distress in my voice. For a kid, she’s pretty intuitive.

“I guess because I have no idea if Sam wants kids, and if she does, then I don’t belong with her.” My stomach drops as those words leave my mouth. Could kids come between us?

“You don’t want more kids?” Sawyer’s flat tone pulls me out of my head.

“I’m not good at being a dad.”

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