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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MIA

B y the time I get back to campus and walk toward my dorm building, it’s past ten in the morning. Tara generally sleeps in on the weekends, but if she’s up, there will definitely be questions for me and where I’ve been.

Suspicious Tara is the worst. When it comes to gossip, she’s like a dog with a bone.

But last night will be worth every single question and raised eyebrow. Last night was, without a doubt, the greatest night of my life.

The skip in my step only gets lighter at the thought that tonight, I get to do it all again with him.

Sharing a bed with Jessie is incredible, but just having time to spend alone, away from prying eyes, without fear of being caught, is all I’ve ever wished for—all we’ve ever wished for.

I’m not sure if it’s hit me yet—Jessie Callaghan is mine. My boyfriend. Even if we are a secret to the outside world, when we’re alone and inside four protective walls, we’re everything to each other.

He made the move I’d been desperate for him to make. He let down his walls when I asked—virtually pleaded with—him to show me his wounds.

He kissed me . He asked me to be his.

He promised me he wouldn’t walk away from us again.

And I believe him. I believe in us.

There’s still so much shit to work through—I know that. I’m not eighteen years old and surviving on the next time I’ll see him. For us to be permanent, I know Jessie needs to believe he’s everything I deserve.

“Mia?”

A gloomy mist has settled on Seattle this morning, and as I take a few more steps toward the entrance of my building, the orange-and-black cap I only know one person to wear stands out in the haze.

I should feel warmth wash over me as I take in my dad’s familiar face and broad stature. But I don’t. I guess that’s partly due to his unexpected visit, but mostly because of the confused scowl he wears.

“Dad?”

Fetching my keys out of my coat pocket, I scan my fob to enter the building and hold the door open for him to walk through.

“Early study session?” he asks, not bothering to tag on a greeting.

I haven’t seen him since I left for Seattle. The longest time we’ve ever been apart.

He steps inside and takes a look around.

When I moved here, he arranged a moving van, but never came with me. I know it hurt him for me to walk away from a career he’d envisioned me to take on. Mom had had me when they were both twenty-five, and now that he’s forty-seven, I know he has one eye on passing the Destroyers over so he can concentrate fully on the academy.

The academy that funded Jessie’s career and college tuition.

My cheeks flush as the lie tumbles from my mouth. “Yes, I have multiple assignments due. Early mornings are the quietest in the library.”

Dad nods, and his eyes flick to my sweater, which is peeking out from underneath my unzipped coat. “Strange top to study in.” He points to the white logo of the florist I work at, which stands out against the black material.

Shit.

“Only thing I had clean,” I counter.

I begin taking the stairs, hoping he will follow and drop his inquisition.

“Thought I’d travel to see you; the team has their bye week.”

Sliding the key into my lock, I pray Tara isn’t on the other side of the door, ready to blow my cover. “How long are you here for?”

“Until tomorrow morning. I’m here to see you first, obviously, but I’m also here to watch an NCAA game. One of the guys I’m putting through college is playing, and I want to check on his progress.”

“I see.”

As soon as I push through the door, my stomach flips as I set eyes on Tara sitting at the breakfast bar. Other than Leo and Hugh, she’s the only person I’ve told who my dad is. It’s not exactly a secret, but it’s also not something I choose to advertise around campus.

At the sight of us, she drops her half-eaten bagel onto her plate. “Hey.”

“You must be Tara.” My dad strides across the room, his hand outstretched for her to take.

With his back to me, she shakes my dad’s hand and then flicks her eyes to mine, surprise written across her face.

I shake my head slowly, a desperate attempt for her to read between the lines and play along with my story.

“You’re the same major as Mia, right?”

Picking up her bagel, Tara takes a bite and focuses her attention back on Dad. “Yep,” she says around a mouthful.

He thumbs over his shoulder to where I’m standing behind him, and I close my eyes, saying a silent prayer. I know exactly where he’s going with this. If Tara blows my cover, he’ll know I wasn’t at the library. And knowing my dad, there’s only one conclusion he’d draw as to why I was trying to hide my whereabouts.

“Didn’t want to join Mia for an early morning study session?”

Tara swallows her mouthful and then rubs her hands together. Confidently, she slides off the stool and carries her empty plate across to the sink. Turning back around, she faces my dad. “Nah. I worked a late shift last night and don’t have the same commitment as Mia.”

Every knot in my stomach unravels as I blow out a silent, relieved breath.

Propping his hands on his hips, he swivels back around to me. My dad is very rarely surprised or wrong, and I can tell by the look on his face that he’s both things right now. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Thankful I cleaned it before my shift yesterday, I point to a closed door. “Go ahead.”

As soon as he disappears inside and we hear the lock turn, a cheeky smile spreads across my roommate’s face.

Thank you , I mouth.

She picks up her phone from the counter and walks over to me. “Welcome. I’ve hidden enough from my parents to know a girl in need of an alibi. I guess Pancake Boy wasn’t a one-and-done arrangement after all.”

The temptation to spew more lies and deny that I was with anyone last night fights to be the next statement out of my mouth. But Tara just surprised me and did me a solid in the process.

I pin my bottom lip between my teeth, remembering the way Jessie’s tongue slid against me, desperate to feel it again tonight. “I guess not.”

With my jacket resting over the back of my chair, I take a seat in the same boho café Jessie and I were in only weeks ago. My dad pulls off his cap and hangs it on the back of his chair, shaking out his messy, dark hair and looking around at the decor. He’s more relaxed than he was when I saw him outside my dorm building.

“Okay, I have a gingerbread latte with extra cream and a black filter.” The barista looks between us both, clearly not recognizing Dad.

He was one of the biggest names and enforcers in the NHL. But unless you’re a Destroyers fan or you’ve followed hockey for years, it’s unlikely you’d know who he is.

“Latte for me, thanks,” I say, taking the large coffee from her hands and holding it between mine, the early February air still freezing my fingers.

Dad shrugs off his jacket and picks up his coffee, taking a sip. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch all that much. The season has been crazy, and we’re struggling to find a replacement for you. You did a lot around the place.”

Guilt washes over me as I take in my dad’s face. The stress of losing Mom understandably aged him several years, but somehow, in the few months I haven’t seen him in the flesh, the lines around his green eyes look deeper.

“Marie wanted my job when I left. Did she not take it?”

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “It didn’t work out.”

I spoon some of the cream into my mouth. The air between us suddenly feels heavy and awkward again.

“I thought you’d take the chance to get away—you usually do in bye weeks.”

Memories of that season flash through my head. When Dad went on a short vacation to Mexico, Jessie and I took full advantage. Crossing my legs over, I remember the way he pinned me against Dad’s office door as I shamelessly humped his thigh. Smiling around the spoon, I also remember the panic when we both noticed the security camera set up in the corner of his office.

It took Jessie ten minutes to find the recording and delete it, and then we made out for another twenty. Let’s just say, Riley’s Bar wasn’t the first time we’d been up close in a closet.

“What time is the game?” I ask.

Dad checks his watch just as I feel my cell buzz in the pocket of my jeans. There’s a chance it’s Jessie since practice will be over by now. Excitement races through me, but I fight back the urge to check who it is with Dad sitting directly across from me.

“Early evening, but I have some calls to make in the meantime.” He takes another sip of coffee and sets it back down on the table. “What about you? Got plans? You can come to the game with me, if you want? It’s your college team playing.”

No can do. By that time, I’m hoping to be in your former winger’s bed, preferably underneath him.

“Tara and I are heading out tonight.” I have genuinely never lied so much in my life.

Dad nods his head, clearing his throat. “You’re being, um … safe, right, Mia?”

Even while I’m twenty-two, talking about sex with my dad has never been more embarrassing.

“Really?” I drawl. “Are we having this conversation? I’m not sixteen anymore.”

Shifting in his chair, Dad rests his forearms on the table, pinning me with a serious stare. “I was a college student once, and I know dudes operate mainly with their dicks.”

My brows shoot to my hairline. “Yeah, well, no danger of that. No one is interested in me, and I’m more likely to have a love affair with the librarian than I am a student.”

Dad sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have you heard from Callaghan?”

It’s right about now that I wish I’d joined the on-campus poker team as I try to keep my face expressionless. “Jessie?” I question.

A wry smile traces his lips. “You know exactly who I’m talking about, Mia.”

“Why would you ask that? You know I haven’t heard from him since the summer.”

“Because you’re in the same city.”

I lift a shoulder. “So? And I don’t see why you have such a problem with him. It’s been years since all that went down. He’s probably got a girlfriend now.”

Me.

“Because boys like Callaghan are the worst of the worst when it comes to thinking only with their dicks. I’d rather you date some hotshot on the college team than him.”

“Drop it, Dad,” I grit out, anger beginning to swirl in my stomach.

“You were a conquest to him, Mia. He’s a bad person from the wrong side of town. You know the drunk that killed your mom was also from South Boulevard, right?”

I press my lips together and shake my head at him, looking down into my half-finished coffee. “You’re a snob—you know that? You weren’t exactly from a good part of town when you met Mom, but I didn’t see Grandpa judging you.”

Dad checks his watch again, grabbing his cap and jacket from the back of his chair. He pulls it on and then reaches into his wallet, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill for the check. “I also didn’t sneak around behind his back for months and then leave her brokenhearted when I got caught.”

He sets the bill down on the table and offers me a warm smile, clearly trying to avoid an argument.

“I don’t see that he had much choice since you threatened murder and then kicked him off the team.”

Standing from his chair, he rounds the table and leans down, setting a chaste kiss on top of my head. “Still defending him, even now. Move on, Mia.”

When I push back my chair, it makes a squeaking noise across the floor. I grab my jacket and bag from the back of it and follow him out of the café.

Once outside, I turn to look at Dad, who thumbs behind him in the opposite direction. The freezing wind whips around us, blowing my hair across my face. Moments like this are when the pain of losing my mom feels the harshest. I know if she were here, I’d be able to talk to her about Jessie.

I know she’d see it from my point of view.

I know she wouldn’t just give him a chance; she’d tell my dad to back off.

My eyes start to blur as I blink several times to hide my emotions. “Good luck with the game tonight.”

I can tell he wants to say more, and as he watches my eyes glaze over, he knows he’s upset me. Graham Jenkins has never been a mean person, but Mom’s death definitely changed him. Bitterness and anger found their way into his personality and never really left. If anything, it’s grown worse over the past seven years.

At twenty-two, I should be able to talk freely with him, and he should respect my decisions, even if he doesn’t always agree with them.

When Mom died, it was like time stood still, and in my dad’s eyes, I stopped getting older. Maybe continuing to treat me like a fifteen-year-old was—and still is—his way of hanging on to the past and keeping me protected, all at the same time. What he failed to realize is I did a lot more growing than the average teenager.

As much as his overprotectiveness has held me back from pursuing what and who I want in life, I don’t have it in me to hurt him further. My breaking from his Dallas chains hit him hard enough, and telling him that I’m involved with Jessie again without him losing his shit feels just about impossible.

I step forward and reach up to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Talk soon.”