“Does he know you’re here right now, putting your future on the line for his?”
“No.” Whirling around, I marched back up to him. Angry sadness chewed through my chest at the thought that he couldn’t believe I’d sacrifice what I had for someone I cared about. “And he’d stop me if he knew. He didn’t want to tell me why he wasn’t playing because for some insane reason,” I smacked my hands against my forehead, “he didn’t want me to hate you. He wanted me to make up my own mind without his interference. He was trying to give you a chance and you threw it away with some macho ‘now I decide I’m your father’ bullshit.”
“I am your father.”
“Since when? Since you left when I was eight? I didn’t see you. I didn’t hear from you. I didn’t get a single present, letter, note, signal flashed in the sky—nothing. You left me with her. You left me to fend for myself and I will never let you hurt someone I love.”
I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my coat.
“He’s my friend. My best friend. The best friend anyone could ever have.”
From the look on his face it wasn’t the least bit convincing. Fine, if he couldn’t do it for me, then maybe he’d do it for the one thing I knew he loved.
“You know it’s what the team needs, and what you know is right. Maybe once you can act like a decent person.”
I choked back a sob and wiped away the tears chaffing my cheeks. “You can choose to be a real father to me just this once.” I held one finger up in the air, but not the one I wanted. “And do the right thing. Or you can start that new family over with Nora and pretend I never existed, because I’ll only ever think of you as dead.”
Spinning, I fled, running until I reached the end of the block. Around the corner and out of eyesight, I collapsed against the tall wooden fence and dissolved into a flood of tears.
Every step closer to me closed the door to the future LJ had been dreaming of his whole life. He’d talked all the time about how great it would feel to buy his parents a new house, to pay for Quinn’s college, to know that the next time his dad, mom or Quinn needed anything, that he could take care of it without a second thought.
And he’d almost lost it all because he was too stubborn for his own good.
With The Brothel in view, my steps slowed. With each one, it felt like a lead weight had been added to my ankles, like my energy had been siphoned off with a garden hose and a gas can.
Sitting at the top of the stairs leading to the porch was LJ.
I held onto the railing to steady myself. My face felt like a splotchy, wind-burned mess.
“You went and talked to him.” The corners of his mouth pinched.
“I did.” Rushing past him, I opened the front door. Inside, I figured I’d hear grilling, drinking and laughing going on, but it seemed the party was over. Another thing ruined because of me.
His steps followed behind me. “I told you not to do it.”
“And I told you not to be an idiot.”
“What did you say to him?” He dashed past me and stood on the stairs, blocking my path.
I gripped the banister and ground my teeth. Helping him was out of the question, but he could sacrifice everything for me? “I told him the truth, and I told him if he ever wanted to speak to me again, he’d do what he knew was right.”
“Risa.” A long suffering sigh of disappointment and misery descended around him like a cloud. “He’s your dad.” He sat again, planting himself in my way.
“When will you understand that this isn’t a missed football game or forgetting to pick me up from school? This is never being there for me. My parents have never been there for me. My mom isn’t capable of taking care of herself, let alone me, and Ron cut out when I was just old enough to miss him. My parents aren’t your parents, and not every parent deserves a second chance—or even a first chance. Sometimes drawing that line is the best thing you can do to protect yourself.” Just when I’d thought there were no more tears to cry, they were back.
But this time I wasn’t sitting on the frozen sidewalk. I collapsed on the step in front of him.
LJ’s arms enveloped me and held me tight against his chest.
I clung to him like I’d stop breathing if I let go.
He buried his face in my hair and ran his fingers along the back of my head until the sobs turned to hiccups of embarrassment. “You know you’re the strongest person I know.”
“I’m not. I’m really not. If I were, I wouldn’t have come running to Fulton U to get Ron to pay for college.” I looked up at him. “And because I hated being away from you in New York.”
“It only took you three years to finally admit you find me absolutely irresistible.” A gentle smile played on his lips.
A watery laugh spilled from mine. “Yet somehow you still manage to be the worst.”
He brought me into his room and kicked off his shoes.
I toed mine off and followed him to his bed.
With strong steady fingers, he unbuttoned my coat.
I stilled his fingers and stared into his eyes. “You shouldn’t have lied to me. You shouldn’t have kept this from me.”
His nod was grim. He peeled my coat off my shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want you to hate him and I didn’t want you to not be able to pay tuition. I didn’t want you to have to leave again.” Staring into his eyes, the tears returned for a totally different reason. With one look, he made me feel a kind of wanted I’d never felt before and didn’t know if I’d feel it again. It was scary to see the depths of his care and know it might not last forever.
We climbed into bed together, our arms and legs tangled and our heads on the same pillow.
He ran his fingers through my hair, pulling at the strands stuck to my face by tears.
“I love you, Marisa.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but this time it felt different. It felt heart-stoppingly, soul-scorchingly different.
22
LJ
Keyton leaned, bracing his arm on the locker beside mine. “Listen, man. I’m sorry. I know you said not to say anything, but sometimes you’re just too damn stubborn for your own good.”
The tightness in my muscles had nothing to do with powerhouse practice or skipping stretching. I dropped my pads onto my shoulder in the locker room and dragged my jersey over my head.
“Nothing to do about it now.” The stadium rumbled above us. Stands filled with frozen fans.
“How’s Marisa?”
“I’m more pissed at you for getting her angry than Coach.” My cheek twitched.
Marisa and I had spent the last couple days in our own world, disappearing into quiet spots on campus. I knew I should’ve gotten my own place senior year.
He held out his hand. “Are we good?”
Tilting my head, I met his eyes. How many times had I done something like that for Marisa’s own good? Sometimes we had to push the people we cared about. It’s what friends did. I grabbed his hand and jerked him closer, patting my fist against his back. “We’re good.”
With a nod and half-smile, he let out a breath. “Thanks. I was worried you’d boot me out of the house or something.”