Page 43 of Biggest Player (Not Yours #2)

Dex

It’s like I said—my parents weren’t involved in most of my shit, so I have no idea what to expect when I meet hers.

We’re at the scene of the crime, a.k.a. the first place we met in person, a.k.a. the restaurant where I paid Wyatt to ruin my date with Madisson.

We thought it would be an ironic and fitting spot to meet her folks.

Margot is fussing with her hair, glancing nervously at her reflection in the window of the restaurant, tightening the sleek ponytail that she already tightened at least four times on the ride here.

“Mom, you look perfect.” Wyatt takes her hand. “Stop fussing.”

Honest to God, in the few short weeks we’ve been dating, I have grown to seriously respect that little shit. I have no idea how most kids are, but this one is intelligent as fuck and hilarious besides.

“Listen to Baby Yoda, Margot. She’s very wise.”

Wyatt giggles, pleased with the nickname.

She lets go of her mom’s hand, and I take it instead, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be fine.” I try to sound more confident than I’m starting to feel. “Your parents are going to love me.”

She gives me a skeptical look as I pull open the door for them. “You don’t know my parents.”

Uh—what’s that supposed to mean? I don’t ask; instead I guide them into the lobby.

“No, but I know you,” I counter. “And if you love me, they’ll love me too.” Here I go boasting about things I know nothing about. Like meeting parents and blended families.

She takes a deep breath and nods. “You’re right, you’re right. They’re going to love you. After all, they never stop hounding me to date.”

Yeah. She’s told me all about how her mom is always trying to set her up with her friends’ divorced sons, or men she meets in the grocery store.

We walk into the restaurant, the familiar scent of Italian food wafting through the air. My stomach grumbles on cue as the hostess leads us to a table toward the back where Margot’s parents are already seated.

They stand as we approach, her father’s expression stern, her mother’s more curious.

They both give me a once-over.

“Mom, Dad, this is Dex,” Margot says, her voice slightly trembling. “Dex, these are my parents, Robert and Lydia.”

Robert is a tall dude with distinguished gray hair at the temples and an imposing presence. He extends his hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Dex.”

His grip is firm.

Super firm.

Wyatt hugs her grandpa while he’s shaking my hand, giggling the entire time.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” I reply, our fists moving up and down, and I do my best not to wince at the strength of his handshake. What’s he trying to do, crush my palm?

Damn, Robert, relax.

Her mother, a petite woman with sparkling eyes, steps forward next to hug me.

“Please sit,” she says after giving me a squishy, warm hug. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wyatt, Margot, and I take our seats at a big round table—not too far from the one I was at with Madisson and within earshot of the bathrooms. Ha!

“I hope she didn’t tell you the story about my agent.” I throw out a zinger, verbal diarrhea rearing its ugly head. Since when am I nervous around parents? Fuck. I told her they were going to love me, and here I am, talking out of my asshole.

Lydia tilts her head toward Margot. “I don’t recall a story about your agent.”

A foot nudges mine beneath the table to keep my mouth shut, and I do my best to look unfazed.

Once we’re settled, the waiter comes to take our drink orders. Margot’s parents order wine, but I stick with water, wanting to keep a clear head. The last thing I need is to spew more garbage about agents and fuckups since it looks as if that’s the path I’m veering down.

Margot squeezes my hand under the table.

“So. Dex,” Robert begins, taking on a businesslike tone. It’s a fatherly expression to show me he’s ready to get staunch and serious. “How did the two of you meet?”

This is it— my time to shine . The perfect opening to razzle and dazzle.

Margot and I exchange a quick glance. “Well, it’s a bit of a funny story,” she starts. “We actually met here for the first time. At this restaurant.”

“Oh?” Her mother’s eyes practically glitter with interest. “I would have guessed a dating app.” She winks, attempting to be hip and in the know of the younger crowd.

I rub the back of my neck nervously, and her father notices. He’s like a hawk, this guy.

“I was here, uh, on a date with another woman, and things weren’t going well because—” I want to bang my head on the table. Why did I just tell Margot’s parents I was here with another woman?

“Oooh, oooh!” Wyatt interrupts, waving an arm in the air as if she were raising her hand at school. “Can I tell it? Can I?”

Margot’s eyes go wide. We’re now entering dangerous territory. How will her parents feel about me paying a child to do my dirty work for me? Or the fact I tried climbing out a restroom window?

She nibbles her lip, concerned. “I don’t know, Dex— can she tell the story?”

I nod slowly. “It’s her story as much as it is ours.”

Wyatt practically bounces out of her seat, thrilled to be the star storyteller, a captive audience ready to hang on her every dramatic word.

Beside me, Margot braces herself, slamming most of her wine in a single gulp.

“ So. ” Wyatt pauses on that single word, glancing around the table.

“Mom was here with us. Remember when we were here having that fancy dinner, Grandpa?” Grandpa tilts his head.

“And Dex was here too. Except he was here on a really bad date. I mean, this lady was so horrible, right, Dex?” I nod sagely, waiting for what comes next in our story.

“Anyway, Dex paid me a hundred and forty bucks to ruin his date.”

Wyatt punctuates the sentence by sipping from her kiddie mocktail, then setting it back on the table with a thud.

Lydia’s eyes are wide as saucers, but she looks more amused than appalled? Thank fucking God.

Robert’s expression, on the other hand ... not so much.

Thus far he is not impressed with my antics. Nor my charm. And no mention of football.

“You paid a child over a hundred dollars?” Robert repeats, his tone questioning, eyes bugging out. He turns his attention to his daughter. “And you were okay with this?”

“It was for LEGOs, Grandpa!” Wyatt interrupts again. “I told the lady I was his daughter and he had ten other kids.” She giggles. “It was so funny. This was after he tried to escape through the bathroom window.”

It’s safe to say we’re all horrified.

Margot’s face is now a mix of embarrassment and laughter, while I try to gauge Robert’s reaction.

Yup. Still pissed.

And by pissed I mean a vein is bulging in his goddamn forehead.

“Is that true?” Robert asks, turning his narrowed gaze on me.

The vein in his head threatens to burst.

I clear my throat. “Yes, sir. Er. Uh. It was one of those situations that wasn’t going to solve itself. It was a first date, and the woman was making plans for our wedding and our children.” I exaggerate for the sake of saving my ass. “I was desperate.”

“Does that sort of thing happen to you often?” Robert is tapping the table with his index finger.

“No. That was a first.”

“And then ,” Wyatt continues, not wanting to be ignored. “As soon as I told her he had so many kids, she bolted. Worked like a charm!” She puts her hand up so I can high-five her, and I don’t want to leave her hanging, so I give her palm a halfhearted, light tap.

God, I hate myself right now.

Hearing this told from a child’s perspective makes it sound so ... not great. It makes me sound like a colossal dipshit, bonehead, asshole, thoughtless prick. Take your pick; any of the adjectives work.

“It’s not every day you hear about someone paying a kid to sabotage a date. So much action.” Lydia tries to ease the tension between her husband and me, winking at her granddaughter conspiratorially.

“I know, Grandma. It was really fun, and I got that LEGO kit I wanted.” She takes a chug from her mocktail. “Ahhh.” Wipes her mouth.

“Goodness, then what happened.”

“Then Mom came around the corner and busted us.”

Busted us.

“Well.” My girlfriend finds her voice. “I was looking for you, young lady. You were gone a long time.”

Her mother is studying me, but judging from her amused expression, she’s less offended by my actions than her husband is. I wonder if I’ll be able to win him over—or if I’m doomed for life.

I clear my throat. “Long story short, here we are, having dinner with you.”

“Quite honestly, after seeing the news stories, I texted Margot about meeting you. Every time one of my friends called to ask about it, I had no details.” Now Lydia sounds slightly put out.

The server comes and saves us all from more awkward conversation, and we order appetizers but not our entrées. I readjust myself in the chair—it has armrests and feels too small for my giant frame, the tops of my knees knocking the table with each movement.

Silverware clanks.

“What are your intentions toward my daughter?” Robert is staring at me from above his menu, doing his best to play the role of the intimidating father who only wants what’s best for his daughter.

“Dad!” Margot groans, rolling her eyes. “His intentions? What about my intentions, huh? Maybe I’m the one he has to watch out for, gold diggers and all that.”

That is a very good point!

“Well, someone has to ask the tough questions,” Robert replies, not breaking eye contact with me. “It’s a fair question.”

I clear my throat, trying to suppress a grin.

I’m onto him now—his bark is worse than his bite, and I don’t blame him for being a hard-ass. I mean, come on, look at me. I don’t come off as the boy next door. I’m well aware of the fact that:

I have a reputation in the media that’s probably well deserved.

I look like an asshole. It’s the haircut and the five-o’clock shadow, and the fact that I was born looking cocky certainly doesn’t help. It’s this million-dollar face—there is no helping it.

“Someone has to make sure this guy’s worthy of my little girl,” Robert goes on, protective dad and all that.

“Little girl? Dad, stop.” Margot is grinning at him, so I know her feathers aren’t actually ruffled. She’s playing along. “You do realize I’m a grown woman with a career and a mortgage, right?”

“I appreciate your sentiment, Robert. Sir.” I’m trying to keep a straight face. “But you know Margot can handle herself—she did manage to wrangle me, after all.”

“Oh, I’m sure she did,” Lydia says, laughing. “She gets her sass from me.”

“I am not sassy,” Margot protests. “I’m spirited, and my bullshit meter comes from Dad.”

Robert sits up a bit straighter at the shout-out. “So, Dex.” He leans toward me, elbows on the table. “You’ve managed to survive our little interrogation so far. What makes you think you’re good enough for my Margot?”

Beside me, Margot almost chokes on her wine. “Dad!”

I thought we were through with this, but nonetheless, I take a deep breath, ready to lay it all out there.

No time like the present, eh?

“No, Margot, it’s cool.” A lump forms in my throat, and I feel like I’m on the spot, but it’s fine, everything is fine . I can do this—I can lay my soul bare, in front of her family, because I’m brave. I’m brave, dammit!

“I love Margot. Not only is she amazing, but she’s smart, funny, and incredibly strong. I’ve never met anyone like her—no one has ever told me to my face that I suck. She swept me off my feet.”

She smacks me, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh my God, I did not tell you you suck to your face.”

I shrug. “Not in those words, but you did call me an asshole at least a dozen times after we just met.”

“That’s true.” She flips her hair, laughing.

“Is this your way of flirting?” Wyatt asks, quizzically gazing between her mother and me. “Because it is so weird.”

We all laugh.

“It’s no secret that we’ve had a few rough patches, but ... you know. She’s my best friend.” I take a drink of my cocktail. “Don’t tell my best friend Landon that, he’ll kill me. But yeah—I love her.”

The table falls silent for a moment, the weight of my words hanging in the air.

“What about more kids?” her mom asks, a hopeful look on her face.

Some things are private, and it’s still too early for more kids, but yup, “I’m sure that day will come.”

Margot’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and Lydia’s face softens into a warm smile. Robert studies me for a long moment before nodding slowly.

“Well, Dex,” he says, his voice gruff but kind as he moves to spread his napkin across his lap. “That’s all I needed to hear. Let’s eat, shall we?”