Page 131 of The Love Playbook

“So, you’re onboard?” I ask. “You’ll cosign the paperwork for her treatment?” My heart kicks happily in my chest.

“I’ll sign,” he confirms, his gaze assessing. “I have to say, this is above and beyond boyfriend duty.”

“I love her, sir.” Garry arches a brow. “Besides, this is the final play.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly.

“Probably better that way.” I laugh, rising to my feet as I hand him a pen, nodding to the paperwork in his hands?the ones that will enroll Tiffany Baker in treatment at a live-in facility.

Garry scribbles a quick signature on each page before handing the paperwork back over to me, his eyes laser-focused on my face. “And how does Charlotte feel about you? Does my daughter return the sentiment?”

“I’d like to think she does.”Even if she’s scared.

This answer seems to appease him, and I reach out, extending a hand toward him.“I should probably get going,” I say when he takes it, then pulls me in for a hug. I have one more stop, and then it’s back to campus to prepare for tomorrow, having no idea how the hell I’m getting out of the game.

After I say goodbye to my mom, I turn for the door but Garry calls out, stopping me. “Hey, Chris?” I tip a chin, waiting. “How’d you get Tiffany to agree to this, anyway?” he asks.

A cocky grin splits my lips. “Have you met me yet? I can charm the pants off anyone. Just ask Lettie.”

Garry’s eyes twitch, matching the flicker of muscle in his jaw, and I wince. “You’re picturing me with your daughter, aren’t you?”

“Uh,yeah,” Garry says, looking like he’s two seconds away from drop-kicking me in the dick and taking the papers back.

“That was a wrong choice of words.” I laugh nervously. “I mean, who would want that?” I screw up my face, likeyuck, and my mother snickers while Garry’s expression turns thunderous. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with Lettie’s pants or anything. I mean, who wouldn’t want in her pants? Shit,” I hiss. “All I’m saying is?”

“Chris,” my mother brings a hand to her head, “shut up.”

“Yep. That sounds like a good idea.” I slowly take a step backward and hook a thumb toward the door. “I’ll just leave now.”

“Good idea.” Garry nods, his hands in fists.

“Just try and forget, you know”?I wave a hand in the air?“any mention of me and your daughter’s pants.”

“Chris!” he barks.

“Right. Leaving now!” I say and then move my ass out the door before he can move it for me.

Chapter 35

CHARLOTTE

The bell on the door of Java the Hutt jingles as I step inside, unsurprised to see the long line. It’s Saturday, which means it’s busy. Business won’t die down until well after lunch, only for it to pick back up again after the mad dash from the football game when people stop by for a cup of something hot to warm their bones.

Standing on my toes, I peer around the small café, my gaze lifting above the patrons in line and bouncing from table to table until I spot my father holding a drink, and waiting for me in the back by a life-size Chewbacca. Catching my eye, he lifts a paper cup and points at me, letting me know he already ordered.

With a deep breath, I make my way toward him, feeling the weight of the last week like a coat of armor weighing me down. I haven’t seen my father since the night we all had dinner, so I’mnot sure what I expect from this meeting, but as I approach, I’m relieved to see he doesn’t seem angry. Instead, he almost seems glad to see me as he stands and wraps me up in a hug.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, having no idea why my eyes are suddenly misty.

“Hey, pumpkin.” He settles into a chair across from me, pushing a paper cup and a chocolate chip scone in my direction. “I was here early. Hope you don’t mind that I ordered. Got your favorite chai.”

“Not at all. Thanks,” I say with a smile. Now that we’re here, face-to-face, the unresolved tension between us feels like an elephant on my chest. Lifting my tea, I take a sip, hoping it’ll soothe my nerves but unsurprised when it doesn’t. “Look, Dad, I just want to say I’m sorry, for telling Barb about the money you gave Mom.” I swallow, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “And for making it seem like it was more than it was, that you planned on supporting her throughout your marriage, and that you had . . . unresolved feelings.” I wince, hating how awful it sounds to say it out loud. “I was hurt and frustrated, but that’s no excuse. I never should’ve done it.”

Dad reaches out and squeezes my free hand. “I was a jerk. I get it, and I don’t hold it against you.” He sighs and rakes a hand through his short hair. “Hell, had I been upfront with her from the beginning, it would’ve been a non-issue.”

“Why weren’t you?” I ask, wondering why he kept it from her in the first place.

“It’s stupid.” He shakes his head, taking a sip of his coffee, then says, “Part of me thought it looked bad, like it would be a pattern that would continue into our marriage, and I was afraid she wouldn’t understand. And because a part of me feels guilty.”