True. If anyone is to blame, it’s my mom, but she sacrificed everything for me, so how can I be mad at her?
Adam throws some filets on the grill, and I listen as he and Knox make small talk, discussing the team schedule. They’re so comfortable with one another, while my father and I struggle to find common ground.
“That reminds me,” Adam says, flipping the steaks. “We have dinner every week, Ava. Usually on Sunday, but if we have a game, then we shift to Monday. I’d love it if you could join us.”
They do this every week? Like an official Sunday dinner? My Nana had the same tradition when I was growing up. Mom and I went over every week, come hell or high water.
My father stares at me, waiting for a response. “I’ll…have to let you know. I’m going to be pretty busy over the next few weeks.”
It’s a feeble excuse. Between practice and road games, they’ll both be busier than me, but there’s no way I can commit to weekly dinners with the father I barely know and the guy I’m secretly banging.
Thankfully, Adam doesn’t push.
“Well, maybe Knox can show you around at least. I’d feel much better if you weren’t running all over the city alone, at least until you get your bearings.” He claps his star player on the back. “Knox is one of the good ones. Hell, he’s the son I never had.”
The declaration, delivered so casually, cuts deep. I stare at him, emotions roiling beneath the surface.
Jealousy is an ugly emotion.
So is resentment, but here we are.
Cerebrally, I know why my mom chose not to involve Adam in my life, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s a father-sized hole in my chest. He might’ve been a disaster when they met, but somewhere along the way, he straightened himself out. And even though he’s here now, there’s no making up for lost time or missed opportunities.
We can’t go back and attend daddy-daughter dances. He can’t teach me to ride a bike or drive a car. He never got to see me compete in gymnastics, and I never got to experience the pride he might’ve felt when I graduated magna cum laude.
There are a million little moments we’ll never get back.
The kind of moments he clearly shares with Knox.
9
KNOX
Normally,I look forward to dinner with Coach, but tonight is shaping up to be a gong show, and I’m not sure I can take another hit.
Which is why I need to send the text before things get any worse.
Me: Coach has a daughter. Her name is Ava and she works for the team now. He said if anyone so much as looks at her, he’ll break their damn fingers. Consider this your first and only warning.
Coach has a daughter.
Talk about a mindfuck.
I slip my phone back into my pocket, not wanting to be rude.
I’ve known Coach since I was a kid. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be the man—or the player—I am today. He’s like a father to me.
Aside from Dvorak, he’s the only family I have. We may not be family by blood, but when I needed support most, he was there for me. And how did I thank him? By fucking his daughter.
You also took her out on the best date of her life.
Somehow I don’t think Coach will see it that way.
I didn’t know who Ava was when I had sex with her, but that doesn’t change the fact that I betrayed a man I admire.
My phone vibrates in my pocket—probably one of the guys—but I ignore it.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I promised Ava I wouldn’t let her go, and now I don’t know which way is up.