Page 37

NYLAH

I love and hate the fact that my dad is a man of his word.

He pulls up outside Football Frat exactly ten minutes later.

I’m already downstairs in the living room.

I’m sticking to my slept-on-the-couch story like my life depends on it.

Kind of feels like it does. Or at least Carson’s life does, and that’s worth keeping any secret for.

Glancing his way, I offer him a smile. His lips twitch a little, but then he goes back to bobbing his leg and looking at the floor like he’s awaiting his execution.

“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’m not giving us away.”

His head pops up and he winces at me like he’s letting me down by keeping quiet.

“It’s okay.” I reach out, brushing my fingers down his arm. “It’s not the right time yet.”

“It’s never gonna be the right time,” he mutters. “Your dad hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “He will if he ever finds out about us.”

“So there is an us, then?” I grin at him, and he just stares at me. Damn, I wish I could read his mind, or force an answer out of him, but I don’t get the chance because Dad is pounding on the door.

Sticking to the plan, Carson makes a beeline for his room. It’s better if Dad doesn’t see him. Zander makes space for him to get past, then trots down the rest of the stairs and answers the door for us.

“Where’s my daughter?” Dad, never one for pleasantries, gets right to the point. Mean ass.

“Good morning, Coach.” Zander greets him with a smile. “She’s just in here.”

Stepping aside, he lets my father into the house, and Dad has the decency to mumble a quick apology and pat him on the arm before looking into the living room.

He sees me on the coach, my leg resting on the coffee table, and frowns.

“Hey, Dad.” I try to distract him. “Thanks for coming to get me. Wasn’t really necessary, as one of these guys could have dropped me home, but?—”

“Of course I was coming to get you,” he grumbles.

“You’re missing church for this, you know,” I tease, and he narrows his eyes at me.

I smile back, trying to hide the writhing in my chest as I will this guy to chill out already.

With an irritated headshake, he scans the room, eyeing up Wily when the giant appears behind him.

“Oh, hey, Coach. What are you doing here?” The massive lineman’s smile falters for a second, and then he spots me in the living room and frowns in confusion. “What are you doing here? Did you babysit?”

“So you obviously weren’t the one to carry her back here,” Dad growls.

“Uh…” Wily’s eyes dart to me as he scrambles to catch up on what the hell went down last night.

“Dad, leave him alone,” I warn.

My father grunts… and then ignores me, turning on Wily and pointing up at him. It’s funny how even though my father is shorter, he feels ten feet tall right now. Wily kind of shrinks away from him a little.

“What were you doing last night?”

“I was… I…” Wily blinks and then rushes out, “I had a tutoring session, and then after that, I…” His cheeks turn kind of pink, and he darts a look over Dad’s shoulder at me.

“Tutoring? Where?”

“At the library.”

“Still the same guy you’ve been working with?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dad nods. “Well, that’s good. How are you doing with your studies? Managing to keep those grades up?”

“Yes, sir.” Wily relaxes, a smile twitching his lips. “I’m maintaining the C average you told me I had to.”

“Good man.” Dad slaps his arm, and I start to relax as well until he asks, “What did you do after tutoring? Did you go to that sorority party? Did you see who pushed my daughter over?”

“Dad!” I snap, struggling to stand up. “Leave him alone! He wasn’t there, okay? Or if he was, he showed up after I left. And I never said I was pushed. You make it sound like someone attacked me!” I flick my arm up and nearly lose my balance.

Dad bolts into the room, steadying my arm and wincing. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Is your leg okay?”

“I’m fine!” I push him off me and start limping past the coffee table.

Wily shares a dubious look with Zander, who shakes his head. I’m sure he’ll update the guy later. The whole house will no doubt find out about how Carson carried me home… and how Zander found us kissing on his bed this morning.

“Let me help you.” Dad steps up to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Have you got all your stuff?”

“Yeah, I just—” Oh shit! My bag! It’s still up in Carson’s room. Darting a look at my father, I softly murmur, “I just need to get my bag.”

“Okay.”

Dad starts looking around, and I have no choice but to murmur, “It’s upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Dad’s frown feels like a laser beam right through my skull. I avoid eye contact and nod, stepping out of his hold and limping toward the stairs. “What’s it doing upstairs? You said you slept on the couch.”

I ignore him, grabbing the railing and starting my awkward climb back up.

“Nylah,” Dad tries to stop me, but Sienna, like an angel from heaven, sweeps down the hallway with Zoey in her arms.

“Coach Jones. Hi.” Her voice is bright and cheerful as she pulls my father in for a hug. “How are you this morning?”

“Uh… yes. I’m fine. Good. Thank you.”

“Zoey, this is Daddy’s football coach.”

“Foobawl.” Zoey giggles, and my dad’s a goner.

Thank you, Sienna!

I’m guessing Zander told her what he saw me doing with Carson this morning, and she’s saving the entire house from a nuclear meltdown right now. Bless her forever!

Reaching the top step, I limp into Carson’s room and only then think about how the hell I’m going to get back down again. He carried me this morning, but I doubt he’ll want to do that in front of my dad.

Carson’s already waiting for me, holding my bag out and whispering, “I can’t believe we forgot.”

“I know, right?” I snort and roll my eyes. “Thought we had it covered, but that’s okay.”

“What are you going to say when he asks you why it was up here?”

I shrug. “Not sure yet. Sienna’s distracting him for now, thank God, and hopefully he’ll forget to ask.”

Carson nods, but he looks kind of stressed, and I impulsively reach for him.

I know Dad’s just downstairs, but we’re hidden from sight right now, and I just need to kiss this man.

“Nylah, don’t?—”

I cut him off with my lips, sweeping my tongue into his mouth and loving the way he gives in to my touch.

With a sharp inhale through his nose, he grips my hip and steps up against me. His arm comes around my waist, securing me to his chest while his tongue—warm and delicious—takes me on a quick trip around the moon.

“Nylah? You okay up there?” Dad calls up the stairs.

I reluctantly pull away from Carson, although I enjoy his heated gaze as he trails his eyes across my face, then licks his bottom lip.

“I’ll see you around,” I whisper, brushing my lips across his before turning and limping back toward the stairs.

“Wait.” He catches my wrist, his eyebrows twitching as he pulls in a breath, then lifts me into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not walking down the stairs with your leg like this.”

“But—”

He appears at the top of the stairs before I can argue, and the second Dad spots him, his eyes turn from mild concern to a look that screams, “Not on my watch!”

“It’s okay, Papa Bear.” I hold up my hand to calm him. “I just asked if Carson could help me down the stairs.”

Thankfully, Dad buys my lie with relative ease, although he’s definitely not happy about seeing one of his players holding me.

I roll my eyes as Carson carefully negotiates the stairs with me in his arms. “Seriously, Dad. Stop with the glaring. He’s just helping me.”

“Actually, Carson was the one who found Nylah at the party last night. He carried her through the rain, and when she got here, we insisted she stay the night.” Sienna smiles at me. “And Carson kindly gave up his room so she didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Dad’s frown sharpens when Carson reaches the bottom stair. Stepping forward, he practically pulls me out of Carson’s arms. “What happened to your face?”

Carson swallows, brushing his fingers over the bruise on his chin. He shrugs like there’s no point trying to explain.

Dad rolls his eyes. “Did you just carry my daughter down the stairs while you were hungover?”

“No, sir. I wasn’t drunk last night.”

“Yet you still got in a fight?”

Carson clenches his jaw.

“I don’t know which is worst. At least if you’re drunk we can blame the alcohol!”

“Dad, stop,” I practically beg him.

He hitches me against his chest, and I resist the urge to wrestle out of his arms when his sharp gaze lands on me and he growls, “You told me you slept on the couch!”

“Because I knew if I said I slept in one of the bedrooms upstairs, you’d jump to all the wrong conclusions and freak out!

” I huff. “If you weren’t such a grumpy, strict bear, I wouldn’t have to lie to you about these little things.

I did it to protect the sanity of everyone in this place.

They don’t need to witness one of your eruptions. ”

Dad’s head jolts back, this hurt look crossing his face before he gently puts me down.

Okay, so now I feel bad.

My father doesn’t really erupt. He’s a great guy, and I just made him out to be the worst. Shit. I’ll have to apologize to him on the way home.

With a swallow, I adjust my footing but end up having to lean against my father for support.

His arm curls around my waist and he glances at Carson, nodding and mumbling, “Thanks for looking after my girl.”

“Anytime.”

Dad eyeballs him like he’s hunting out some kind of lie, and I cannot stand this anymore.

Nudging him with my arm, I tip my head toward the front door. “Let’s go.”

He squeezes my waist and helps me pivot around, taking the bag out of my hands. My leg is kind of throbbing, so I let him support my weight down the steps and even let him lift me into his truck.

“You good?” He reaches for my seat belt, and I take it from him before he can buckle me in like a child.

“Yes.” I give him a warning look.