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It feels good here in this hug. It’s warm. Welcoming.
But as I pull back, I spot her father glaring at me, and the warmth evaporates right out of the air.
“What are you doing here?” he barks.
“Daddy, leave him alone,” Desiree says, crossing her arms.
I reach over and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Thank you for defending me, but he’s angry, and I don’t blame him.”
“You’re goddamn right I’m angry,” he hisses. “At both of you. I told you no football players, and you’re doing…doing…” His eyes flash down to her stomach as he fumbles for the right words. “Doingwho knows whatwith a player on my own team!”
“Bill, calm down,” Sue says as Des leans into me a little.
“Asher and I need to talk, so if you’ll excuse us,” Desiree says, and she reaches for my hand and starts to walk toward a staircase.
“Oh, I don’t think so. If you two want to talk, you’re not going up to your bedroom. I can see what happened the last time youtwo did that.” He nods toward her stomach meaningfully, and I think I might actually throw up.
“Dad!” Desiree yells at the same time her mom yells, “Bill!”
Des glances at her mom, and she purses her lips before she turns toward her dad. “Dad, I’m twenty-five years old. I’m an adult, and I know you tend to forget that and still see me as a five-year-old, but I’m not. I’m having a baby of my own, and I love you to pieces, but I will not stand here and be treated like a child.”
He presses his lips together as he glares at the two of us.
“It’s okay, you two,” Sue says to us. “I know you need to talk, and I’m sure you’d like some privacy. Go ahead. I’ll make sure Bill stays down here.”
Desiree exhales roughly, mutters a quickthanksto her mom, and pulls me along with her. I’m not quite sure where to look because I don’t really want to make eye contact with Coach Dixon right now, so I keep my eyes trained in front of me as Desiree climbs the stairs—a mistake I realize too late since it probably looks like I’m checking out her ass.
It doesn’t matter. Coach already hates me, and I’ve already betrayed his trust. He assumes we’re heading upstairs to bang when all I want to do is explain how he found out in the first place.
I follow her down a hallway and into her bedroom, and I glance around. It’s her bedroom at her parents’ house, so it’s not reallyherroom, and I wonder how much of the décor in here was her design and how much of it was her mom.
As I take stock of what’s in here, it doesn’t feel like Desiree. It’s all white and cold, where she’s warm and inviting. Her place in San Diego had more blues and browns, now that I think about it.
She settles onto her bed and leans back on her pillows, and I turn and face her.
“You wanted to talk, so talk,” she says.
“Are you mad?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder. “Do I have a reason to be?”
I sigh. “No. I was heading into the locker room for practice, and my dad was standing outside the door. I guess he’d been talking with Lincoln.” I shrug. “Anyway, I told him to leave, and he asked me about the secret woman I knocked up that’s three months along. Your dad walked around the corner and overheard the question, pieced two and two together, and told me to get in his office.”
Her brows knit together. “The guy can’t find his fucking car keys, but he piecesthattogether?” she mutters.
“Apparently so. He was understandably furious, and he yelled at me a bit, made me feel like a worthless piece of shit, and then gave me extra drills at practice to really hit that point home.”
She pats the bed beside her, and I walk over and sit. She sets her hand over mine and rubs back and forth. “I’m so sorry he did that. I’ll talk to him.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think it’ll help, Des. He’s not mad we kept it from him. He’s mad it’sme.”
“I thought you two were getting close, though. Why would he be so angry?”
I frown as I look down at the ground. “For the very reason I feared from the get-go. He gave me a chance. He said he’s new and it’s a clean slate for him, that the sins of my past didn’t matter. When it came to the locker room, anyway. I guess when it comes to his daughter, he’s going to hold all of that against me.”
“He can’t hold it against you forever,” she points out.
“Can’t he? Or will he do whatever he can to drive me out of here so I can’t be close to you?” I’m being vulnerable as I speak my greatest fears to her.
