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“Proximity?” he repeats.
“We moved in together when my parents got divorced—the year I was suspended. He’s hard on all four of us, most of all on Lincoln, but I think of the four of us, I was always closest to him. Probably because he focused so hard on my high school career after my brothers were out of the house. We had one-on-one time my brothers didn’t get with him.” I shrug. “It is what it is, though. When I get home after a game, the focus is never on what went well. It’s always on whatever mistakes I made.”
His brows draw together. “That must be hard. As a father myself, I take so much pride in the things my daughter accomplishes. I can’t imagine what positives would come out of harping on the negative.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
He chuckles. “I do. She’s twenty-five and doesn’t date football players, so don’t get any ideas.”
I laugh as I hold my hands up. “You have my word, sir. I respect the hell out of you, and I’d never dream of it.”
He eyes me warily and shifts the subject. Clearly, his daughter is off-limits, and that’s fine. I’m not interested anyway, even with that whole tempting, forbidden aspect. I can’t be when my mind is still on a fucking one-night stand that happened three months ago.
I’ll get over it. I’ll move on at some point. But for now, I’m going to take Coach’s advice and work on being the kind of player that commands the respect of my teammates.
It’s my only option if I want to change the perception of me in the locker room.
Chapter 17: Desiree Dixon
Touchy-Touchied
“Come on, Desi. You missed the first home game because of a wedding. Can’t you come to the second?” my mom asks.
I stare out my windshield as I try to push this conversation to the end. I thought I’d give my mom a quick call before I headed to Chloe and Lauren’s apartment for our book club meeting tonight, but she’s begging me to come visit, and I have a feeling she isn’t going to let me hang up until I’ve committed to coming.
Truth be told, I’ve been avoiding Vegas.
I tried it once more in July before my dad took off for training camp at the extreme goading of my best friends, and I never ran into Asher.
I told myself that if it was meant to be, we’d run into each other again.
Well, we didn’t, and it’s time for me to move on.
Only…I haven’t. Not exactly.
I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.
Chloe talked me into a dating app.
I went on three dates only to discover that the particular dating app I chose was a hookup app, and I wasn’t interested enough in any of the three men to sleep with them five minutes after meeting them.
They didn’t have the magic Asher and I had. I can’t seem to recreate that no matter how hard I try, but it’s been over three months at this point. I think I must be remembering it differently than how it really happened. I must be putting him on some sort of pedestal.
And I know if I go to the game and stand in the family area afterward, waiting for my father to walk out, and I watch Asher walk out and kiss some other woman waiting for him, it’ll only break my heart.
I also know it’ll reveal to him who my father is, and I have no idea what effect that’ll have.
And that’s why I’ve stayed away.
I want to see him again, but I want to do it in a way that doesn’t make me look like I’m desperately chasing after him. Not when he hurt me by never calling me.
It might’ve only been one night, but the more time that passes, the more anger I feel. The more rage.
Why the hell didn’t he call? Didn’t he feel that connection the way I felt it?
“Yeah,” I finally tell my mom over the phone. The truth is that I’m not really all that busy at work. The busy season of summer has come to an end, and I’ve been slowly backing away from projects as I’ve been taking the time to read up on creating my own business. “I suppose I can join you at the second game.”
“For the whole weekend?” she asks hopefully.
