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“Mm-hmm.”
He settled back in his chair, looking interested now. “All right. Tell me about him.”
She could give him a little without making a whole thing out of it. Then again, knowing her father, he wasn’t going to be satisfied with a first name and a promise that the man treated her well.
“His name is Drew.”
“Drew who?”
She had to swallow first. Here goes nothing. “Kiernan.”
“Kiernan.” Her father started to frown, then stopped. “Drayton’s quarterback?”
Well, duh. The man talked sports on television for a living, and Drew’s name had been all over ESPN since September. She didn’t know why she’d thought she could ease into this.
He looked at her over his coffee. “The white boy?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Oh.” He was quiet for a second. “Okay.”
She’d expected the surprise, but waiting for whatever came after it wasn’t much fun. “Is that a problem?”
“No, sweetheart. You caught me off guard, that’s all. Last time you brought somebody home, it was Cedric.”
“I know.”
“I liked Cedric.”
“But I think you’d like Drew too.”
He studied her, then nodded. “How’s he treating you?”
“Really well, Daddy. He gets me. I trust him.” A few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have believed she could feel that safe with him, but she did.
“That’s . . . good.”
“And he’s funny. Sometimes I don’t want to laugh because it’ll only encourage him, but I can’t help it.” She could see him now, standing in her studio with that tube of paint. Her father would not be getting that story. “He’s different when it’s just us. He’s happy hanging out at my place, eating, talking. We don’t have to be doing anything.”
She could hear herself going on, but her father was listening, and it felt good to finally tell him. There was so much about Drew she wanted him to know beyond what he could see on television.
“And I never get sick of him. Like, ever,” she said. “Even if I’ve seen him that morning, I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”
“I can tell.”
That made her laugh a little. “Am I doing too much?”
“No.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re telling me.”
For a minute, she concentrated on her French toast. She’d said plenty already, and he’d taken it better than she’d expected.
But when she looked up, he was still smiling.
“What?”
“Nothing. Been a while since I’ve seen you smile this much talking about somebody.”
She hadn’t meant to tell him any of this over breakfast, but now that she had, she didn’t want to shrug it off or act like Drew was just somebody she enjoyed spending time with.
