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I sniffle and wipe my nose with a napkin. “You were a teenager when you had me. Even if I dated someone in their late twenties, you would still be weirdly close in age. And a twelve-year gap is not unheard of. At all,” I point out. “Hollis’s sister is married to a guy who’s fifteen years older than she is.”
“You can understand my struggle here.”
“Honestly, Dad? It really shouldn’t be a surprise that I ended up falling for one of the guys on the team. Just be thankful it wasn’t Flip.”
His eyes and nostrils flare. It would be funny if I wasn’t so emotional. “Dallas is still in his twenties!” he says. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Uh, he kind of has a thing for Hemi.” That’s the vibe I get from him, anyway. Why else would he put up with all the weird shit she makes him do?
“You’re not the first person to say that,” he muses. “And half the team is still in their twenties.”
“But they’re still hockey players and they’re not Hollis. Not that it actually matters since we’re not seeing each other anymore, secretly or otherwise.” The ache in my chest grows nearly unbearable with that admission. My eyes prick with fresh tears.
He frowns. “What? When did that happen?”
“You haven’t spoken to him?”
“I’m too angry to talk to him. Is this because of how I reacted?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
He’s back to looking angry. “Why aren’t you seeing each other anymore?”
I fight tears but lose the battle. I pull another napkin from the dispenser and dab at my eyes. “It’s not the right time for us.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Does it matter?”
“If he’s not going to fight for you, he doesn’t deserve you,” Dad says sharply.
I lean my head on his chest. “I know you’re still angry, but my heart hurts, and I just need you to be my dad and love me, and not give me shit for falling in love with Hollis, okay?”
He squeezes my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. “Okay. I’m sorry you’re hurting, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do to make this better?”
“Just be my dad.”
“Always.” He sighs. “I could kick his ass, if you want.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“I figured you’d say that but, I thought I’d offer anyway,” he says softly. “Is there anything else you’ve been hiding from me that I should know about?”
“My favorite color is yellow, not pink.”
He pulls back and frowns. “Since when?”
“Since always.”
His eyes dart to my bag, and the hair tie around my wrist. His mouth opens and closes. He sighs. “Can we make a new rule?”
“Depends on the rule.”
“No more trying to be perfect. I love you exactly as you are.”
“Even if pink isn’t my favorite color.”
“Even then.” He kisses the top of my head. “I love you.”
