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And then one rainy night it all changed.
My life got put on hold. I had to kiss my future goodbye as I endured multiple surgeries to save my leg.
I should be grateful I still have it, I guess. My parents fought hard against an amputation, and I’m grateful.
“It’s just a limp, baby. Own it.”
That’s what Mom always says, but she’s not trying to navigate college life, is she?
“So, how were classes today?” Dad hooks his arm around my waist, taking some of the pressure off my leg as he supports me back to his office.
I give in and rest my arm around his shoulders. At least he’s not carrying me. I should be grateful for that.
We pass a few players, and I can’t help checking them out. They avoid eye contact, and I bet my father has given them the hard word about me.Dammit, Dad!
I clench my jaw, hating the way he’s having to slow his pace to accommodate me.
“How’s your roommate? She gotten any friendlier?”
“She’s not unfriendly,” I argue, but I’m not even sure why.
“You said she’s hardly forthcoming with her smiles.”
“I know, but I think she’s just stressed. College is a big adjustment.”
“Is that what you’re feeling?” Dad’s concern ratchets up another notch, and my muscles start to coil.
“No, it’s fine. I’m not stressed. I’m sayingshe’sstressed.”
“You’re a little stressed,” he counters.
Yeah, because I’m about to head home with you and suffer two hours of interrogation over dinner, where I’ll spend the entire time trying to convince you that getting on with my life is what I need right now!
“Are things going better with Professor Schultz? You said she was kind of hard on you last week.”
Dammit, one passing comment and he’s all over it.
I just want to go back to my dorm!
But I can’t. Because my parents love me, and they’ve sacrificed so much for me. I have to be the good daughter. They nearly lost me, and things have never been the same since.
Giving in with a soft sigh, I mumble, “I’ll tell you at dinner. Saves me having to repeat myself, because we all know Mom will ask the exact same questions.”
Dad snickers, giving my waist a light squeeze.
Glancing over my shoulder, I wonder if Mr. Fine Ass will be finished up soon and walking to the locker room.
I kind of want to ask Dad about him—what did he do to be stuck on gear detail and working so late after everyone else finished up?—but I don’t want to give myself away.
Dad will have a conniption if he knows I find any of his players attractive.
I really need to put Carson McAvoy out of my mind. It’s a no-go, so I’m wasting my time even thinking about him.
CHAPTER2
CARSON
So, it’s going to take me a while to stop thinking about that chick with the good arm.