“Most people don’t take too well to that admission. They either judge and turn their noses up, or they think I’m some sex-crazed maniac.”
“And are you? Some sex-crazed maniac?”
She laughs loudly. “Ha! As someone who hasn’t had sex in…” She trails off, biting her bottom lip and then shaking her head. “No.”
Wait a minute. Is Scout…
“I mean, I’m not a virgin or anything,” she says. Oh. Well, never mind. “That would be a good storyline, though, wouldn’t it? A virgin romance novelist. I’m sure it’s already been done. But, yeah, no. Not sex-crazed, not a virgin. Just an author—or wannabe author.”
“You haven’t published any books?”
Her shoulders deflate. “I haven’t even finished a book.”
“Why not?”
“Well…” She sighs. “I have the truck. It eats up a lot of my time—which is great. I’m super thankful for that, but…I also want to write.”
“Then write.”
She twists her lips. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Why?”
“I… I’m blocked.”
“Then get unblocked.”
“If only it were that easy,” she mumbles. “I haven’t touched my book in three years.”
“I’m no expert, but I feel like three years is a long time not to write for someone who wants to be a writer.”
She nods. “It is. But the last time I wrote anything…” She lets out a long breath and sinks lower into the booth. “It was before my dad passed.”
My heart sinks, not because I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but because of the way her face darkens, the way everything about her just seems to deflate as she says the words. It’s clear it was hard on her.
It also makes me feel like an ass because when she said she made a donut for her dads, I just assumed they were both still alive.
“Shit, Scout. That sucks.”
“It’s okay. I mean, I have another one, but—”
I cough out a surprised laugh, nearly choking on my Cheerwine. “Holy fuck.”
“Sorry.” She winces. “Dead gay dad joke…too much?”
“No.” I shake my head, trying to get my breath back under control. “Just was not expecting that.”
“Sometimes I default to dark humor when I get uncomfortable about it.” She fidgets with her straw. “I get uncomfortable about it a lot, probably because I don’t talk about it often. Or at least that’s what my therapist Stevie says.”
“Your therapist’s name is Stevie?”
“My therapist is Stevie.”
“I didn’t know she was a therapist.”
Scout laughs. “She’s not. She’s just an older sister, and they love to pretend they’re therapists like they have everything in life figured out or something, never mind they’re just trying to navigate their own issues. I’m sure you understand, though.”
“While I do have an older sister, she wasn’t around too much when I was younger. There’s a nine-year age difference and she split the second she turned eighteen, so I felt like an only child for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“How was that?” I grimace, and she doesn’t miss it. “Uh-oh. That bad?”
“It was…” I lift a shoulder. “Something. On the one hand, I had all of my parents’ attention. On the other…well, I had all of my parents’ attention. Which, if you’re Grady Miller, a kid who seems to be bound for many years of great hockey, can be very exhausting.”
The corners of her mouth tug down in a frown. “I’m sorry, Miller. That sounds hard.”
It fucking sucked, but I don’t tell her that. It doesn’t seem right when she’s telling me about her dead father.
“Do you and your sister at least get along?”
“We do now. After she moved out, it was like she became a completely different person. She lives out in Seattle with my nephew. I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like, but with the new team out there, it’s at least a couple of times a year. What about your dad? How was he?”
“He was amazing.” A wistful smile plays on her lips. “We had a lot in common. He was a huge book nerd, and because of that, I became one too. We could talk about books for hours and never get tired of it, no matter how much it drove Stevie and Dad nuts. He’s the reason I want to be a writer.”
It’s clear by the way she talks about him that he meant a great deal to her, and not just because he was her dad. It sounds like he was her best friend too. I can’t imagine losing both in one swoop like that.
“And the reason you can’t write?”
She nods. “Afraid so. I promised him I’d finish my book, but…”
“But?”
“It’s not pleasant,” she warns.
I gesture for her to go on, far too curious about what she’s going to say.
She sighs, sitting forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I had a very serious boyfriend when Pops died. We were together for a few years, had an apartment, and I thought he was going to be the one. I loved him, you know?”
“Why do I get the feeling he’s about to do some really douchey shit?”
“Oh, because he is.” She lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “I guess dating someone who just lost their parent was too hard for him. So, he broke up with me in the worst way: he banged someone else…at my father’s funeral.”
I swear I see red.
I’ve never understood that statement before right this moment, but I get it now. It’s like a blinding rage. The urge to pummel someone, the absolute carnal need for violence…
I feel that.
Who does that shit? Who treats someone like that, let alone someone who just lost their parent? What kind of person stoops that low?
“What’s his name?”
Her brows lift. “Excuse me?”
“His name.”
“Miller…”
“What.” It’s not a question, mostly because I can’t fathom why she’d expect anything else right now.
She slides her hand across the table, covering mine with it. The storm brewing inside of me starts to simmer at her touch, and it’s only then that I realize my hands are balled into fists.
“Hey,” she says softly, drawing my attention away from where she’s touching me. “While I appreciate your anger, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“It’s not okay, Scout.”
She gives me a half-smile. “You’re right. It’s not. But it was a long time ago, and I’m working to move past it. Stevie says I’m kind of stuck in the past sometimes, and I think she may be right. It’s time for me to move on, you know?”
I’m not sure if she’s saying this to me or to herself, but I nod anyway.
“Okay. But…please tell me you at least decked the guy when you found out.”
She grins. “Oh yeah—broke his nose. I kind of understand why you guys like fighting in hockey. It’s exhilarating.”