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I sigh as tears spring to my eyes. “I know there’s a heavy conversation we need to have, and I’m scared about what direction it might go in.”
“Yeah.” I feel his breath against the back of my hand at his murmured word. “But the only way we’re ever going to make any of this work is if we’re open and honest with each other, right?”
I press my lips together.
“Come on,” he says, and he opens his door and grabs my duffel. I follow him inside, where he pours us each a drink—wine for me, whiskey for him, before we settle in together on his couch.
He clinks his glass to mine without a toast, and we each take a sip. I take a few more for liquid courage, and he watches me carefully.
“I hate watching you take my best friend out on dates that I should be going on,” I blurt.
Welp, that’s one way to just get it all out there.
“For what it’s worth, I hate taking her when I wish it was you.”
“How do we move past this, Linc?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Will your dad ever be okay with us together?”
“No. Will yours?”
He blows out a long, heavy breath, and he takes a bolstering sip of whiskey. “No. But I’m not sure I care anymore.”
I gasp, shocked he hasn’t mentioned this to me yet. “What?”
He shakes his head a little, and he averts his eyes out the window behind me when he talks. “I guess I came to the realization that nothing I do will ever be good enough for him, and I’m barreling toward middle age and I’ve wasted half my life waiting for him to tell me he’s proud of me. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live my life like I’m a teenager anymore because I’m not. I’m not sure what hold he has on me, but I’m finally trying to fight my way out of it.”
“He’s your dad,” I say softly. “Of course he has a hold on you. Just like mine has on me. I keep thinking what if we admit the truth to our families? How bad would that really be? But then I think about the dynamic we have, how my parents love Jonah with all their hearts and how much help they give me. I keep thinking maybe we’re just dramatizing all this, that it’s not that big of a deal, but then I think…well, if Jonah were to eventually start dating Rivera’s daughter, I’m not sure I’d be able to get on board with that. I know that’s an extreme example, but for as much as I hate it, I also sort of get it. Us being together…it’s the ultimate betrayal to our fathers.”
His jaw slackens a little at my words, like I knocked the wind out of him and he’s not quite sure how to respond to that.
“And I have guilt about that, Lincoln. I do. But it’s not stopping me. I can’t stop. I can’t walk away.” I reach over and take his hand in mine. “This is too damn important.”
He leans over and brushes his lips across mine. “I feel the same way. I’m not willing to walk away, either. But I also can’t keep living like this. We’re balancing things on this tight rope and I’m anxious about how it’s all going to come crashing down.”
“So what do we do?” I ask, my voice nearly desperate.
“I have no idea. The season is about to start, and that’ll change the dynamic again. But I want you by my side through all of it.” His eyes are conflicted as they meet mine.
“I will be. I have to be because of my job.”
He nods. “Which is just another added layer of trouble.”
“Maybe I should step back. Give Rivera the correspondent position.” The words come out of my mouth venomously, and they even seem to taste bad as I say them, but in some ways, this would be easier. It would take away half our issue, anyway.
“Don’t say that,” he chides.
I shrug. “Why not? It would be easier on us.”
“Because I’m not sneaking around to fuck Rivera when we’re at the vineyard in California.”
I giggle. “So you’ll be sneaking around to find time with me?”
“You bet your ass I will. You’ll have your own room, and so will I.”
“Do the players?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Two to a room mostly because the place is small and intimate.”
