“Always.”
Staring down at the silver shorts draped over my thighs, I shove aside my nerves and ask what’s been on my mind since Vancouver.
“Did you know that Oakley has been keeping articles about Noah in his old room? I always thought he was disapproving of the choices Noah made with his career, but it seemed like the opposite.”
He’s silent for a beat. “I didn’t know about that. But I’m not surprised. Oakley is proud of Noah and what he’s accomplished, despite what the both of you think. He wants the best for his son just like any dad does.”
“Then he has a terrible way of showing it. Even you should be able to admit that. If he tried even a little bit harder—”
Dad twists to face me and takes my hand. “Sweetheart, it is not your responsibility to mend Oakley and Noah’s relationship.”
“No? Then whose is it? Because me and Ava seem to be the only ones upset enough by it to want to try. It just makes me somad. Things were never perfect between them, but they used to be better!” I shout, pulling my hand away and resting it on my lap. Dad’s frown deepens.
I know Oakley unknowingly made Noah feel less than his siblings because he just didn’t know how to treat him. Noah made it hard. He loved to fight with his dad, to test how far he could push him. His siblings were so different than him, and Oakley truly never stood a chance. There were no right or wrong sides when it came to the two of them. But I put most of the blame on Oakley because at the end of the day, he’s his father. I’ll always believe he should have tried harder when things fell apart. He should have made sure Noah knew that no matter what, he was loved and a valued member of their family the way Ava did.
Yet, out of everything I know, I’m missing a vital piece of the puzzle. The details of what happened that final day, the one that broke the last fragile piece of their relationship that had kept them together through all of the bad.
Noah refuses to tell me, and I’d never ask Oakley. But I know that my dad knows. I’d bet my uncle Ty does too. Maybe I’ll have to ask him. He’s never been able to tell me no. I think that’s because he’s secretly always wanted a daughter but got stuck with two sons instead.
“Tinsley, I’m sorry, but you need to let this one sort itself out. This is a Hutton family problem. It’s not our mess to get in the middle of.”
I laugh humourlessly. “That’s a cop-out.”
Dad sets his chin on my head and wraps an arm around my shoulders, forcing me close. His following sigh speaks volumes. “It is. But it’s all I can give you.”
“No, it’s all youwantto give me. There’s a difference.”
“Would you want me to tell your secrets to Noah if you kept them from him on purpose?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s a redundant question. I’ve never kept secrets from him.”
“You’re definitely your mother’s daughter,” he relents with a kiss to my head. “That attitude couldn’t have come from me.”
I scoff a laugh and shove his shoulder before slipping out from beneath his arm. Standing from the bench, I run a hand over my head and tug at the band in my hair, tightening it. “Right. Never from you.”
“Maybe you got it from your uncle. That guy has more attitude than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“How does it feel?” I deadpan, holding in a laugh at his confused expression.
“How does what feel?”
“Living in la-la land. At this point, it must be the greatest place to ever exist because you seem content to live there forever.”
His laugh threatens to shake the locker room walls. It makes me laugh along with him, my stomach locking from the strength of it. The part of me that had been in desperate need of some time with my family finally feels a bit more at peace.
“Maybe you’re more my daughter after all,” he states a couple of moments later, once we’ve both sobered up.
“Insult or compliment?” I throw back, letting the past few minutes go. Again, this isn’t the time to get upset.
Dad doesn’t have a chance to answer before there are two hard knocks on the door. Excitement swells in my belly as I rush to let Noah in. I wasn’t positive that he would be able to finish rehearsal in time to catch the beginning of my fight, but I should have known better.
I’m smiling before I even get the door open. “You’re here.”
“I am,” he mutters.
With a powerful push of his arm, he swings the door shut behind him and stalks toward me. Like two magnets, we’re drawn to each other, our bodies moving on their own. His hands cup my face, and then he pulls me in, kissing me hard and desperate, like we hadn’t only seen each other this morning.
“Noah,” I gasp between kisses. “My dad.”