“I’m very interested,” I say, torn between excitement at the chance to work with teens—my preferred demographic—and worry for Ian and the rest of the team. “But I’m also sad. I know Sven is an ass and Pete can be a lot sometimes, but some of the guys just need therapy and support. And they’ve needed it for a while. Some have been through a lot of intense stuff, Derrick.”
“I know,” he says, surprising me again. “But we’re running a professional sports team, not a rehab center or an anger-management program. And we need to prove this team isn’t cursed before things get even worse than they are already.” He clears his throat and nods toward the tables. “Want me to help you clean up in here?”
“No, I’ll get it,” I say, “but I do have a favor to ask, if you don’t mind.”
“Shoot.”
“Could you send out an email with my contact information, letting the guys know I’m happy to continue working with them off the clock if they’d like? I think Laser, especially, was finding art therapy really helpful. I’d like to keep that going for him if he’s interested.” My lips curve. “And he’s a really great artist. I actually enjoy his pieces.”
“You don’t have to do that, Evie,” he says softly. “You don’t have to go out of your way for people who don’t appreciate you. And I don’t just mean the team. I’ve been thinking and maybe we should skip the birthday visit to Dad’s on Sunday. I’ll still send him our gift and a card but…maybe that’s enough.”
My brows shoot up my forehead. “But he’s our dad, Derrick. Flawed or not, he’s the only family we have left.”
“Not true. We have each other. And you have Cam and Jess and Harlow. And I have Ian. We both have people who really care about us, even though they don’t have to. Maybe that’s enough. More than enough.”
I pull in a deep breath and let it out, but the tight, fearful sensation locked around my ribs remains. “Can I think about it? And give you a decision tomorrow?”
“Yeah, of course. Sure thing.” He exhales as he nods toward the door. “I should get back to my office. A lot of work to do to revamp our entire camp plan before Monday morning.”
“I bet,” I say, adding as he turns to go, “And, Derrick?”
He glances back. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for asking me about Dad. Being asked feels a lot nicer than being told what we’re going to do. You know?”
His mouth tightens and his chin dips closer to his chest. “Yeah. I bet. I’ve um…been talking to someone. A professional someone.”
Thank God I haven’t stood up yet or I would have fallen over in shock. Derrick has been militantly anti-therapy since we were kids and my school counselor pressured Dad into family therapy for a few months not long after Mom left.
I try to conceal my surprise as I say, “Oh really?” but I must do a lousy job.
Derrick laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I know. Not my usual, but it’s been good so far. I always thought I was protecting you by being a hard-ass, bossy big brother, but… I was really trying to protect myself from losing another person I cared about. Guess Mom leaving and Dad being Dad fucked me up more than I wanted to admit.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes it takes time and distance to realize how our family of origin shaped us.”
He sighs. “It didn’t for you. You’ve been deep into the therapy stuff since the day you left that house.”
I shrug. “Well, I was gifted with exceptional emotional intelligence, so…”
He grins, proving a joke was the right choice. He’s in the early stages of his journey of self-discovery. There will be time for more in-depth discussion about everything he’s working through later.
And I guess I need to do some more work, too, I realize after Derrick heads back to his office and I’m left alone to tidy up the art room for the last time.
I know my relationship with my dad isn’t healthy. I’ve known that for a long time. Until very recently, my relationship with Derrick wasn’t super healthy, either. But the thought of leaving both Dad and Derrick in my past was too much of a blow.
Human beings are wired for connection, for family, for tribe. And yes, I have three amazing friends I can count on, but no matter how much I love them, Harlow will never be a father figure and Cameron is my buddy, not my brother. So even though cutting ties with people who’ve treated me like an inconvenience (Dad) or a problem to be managed (Derrick) might have been the emotionally healthy thing to do, I’ve never let myself seriously consider that option. I’ve always assumed I would establish a healthier, grown-up relationship with both of them. Someday.
Meanwhile, the years ticked by, and nothing changed until now.
Why is that?
Is it because I finally laid down the law with Derrick last week?
Because I stood my ground with the team and insisted on their participation?
Because I stepped way outside my comfort zone by propositioning a man who, if I’m honest with myself, is completely out of my league?
Or is it all—or maybe none—of the above?
Maybe Derrick would have come to this place no matter what, but I can’t help but feel like I’m in the middle of something big, a major transition I couldn’t stop now if I tried.
No, that’s not true. I could stop it. But I don’t want to. I have to find out what this brave, bolder me is going to do next. I need to see what she draws, learn how she connects with her new clients at the teen center, and discover what it feels like to fall asleep in Ian’s arms, even if it’s just for one night.
Even if it breaks my heart.
With that in mind, I pull my cell from my bag and shoot Ian a text.
Chapter 24
Ian
The text from Evie comes through just as I’m finishing up at the car rental in Midtown.
Want me to bring your packet with me? We could work on collages together later tonight. I’m no expert, obviously, but I don’t think people can have sex for twelve hours straight. But please correct me if I’m wrong, and I will pack cold compresses for my nether regions.
My lips twitch.
It isn’t a smile, but for the first time since I left the stadium, I can stretch my neck to one side without my jaw cracking. It’s a start. And it’s because of Evie. In just a few days, she’s become one of my favorite people.
I guess she always has been, but now she’s more than a surrogate little sister. She’s my friend, part of my support system, and increasingly the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning.
And I’m going to betray her.
Tonight.
We only agreed to two weeks of “friends with benefits,” and I won’t be skipping town much earlier. But if I’m honest with myself, I haven’t been thinking short term about this thing with Evie, not since our hangman session. Being with her is so easy, so natural, so right in a way being with Whitney never was, not even when we were in the golden days of our relationship.
Evie just gets me. And I get her. She likes me for who I am, not how many goals I score or how much money I make, and I feel the same way about her. She could become a world-famous artist or spend the rest of her life sketching things people refuse to hang in their guest bathroom and what I feel for her wouldn’t change. I would still respect her integrity, her creativity, and her innate goodness.