Falling For Dad's College Rival

My double serving of microwave mac n’ cheese beeps that it’s ready, and I wonder if I should watch a few episodes or a binge season of my favorite new series before the doorbell chiming turns my heart to ice.

I freeze, feeling like an intruder in my own home. Like I’ve done something terrible and the whole world’s come knocking all because I bailed on my dad at his college reunion.

I decide to ignore it, hoping whoever it is will just go away.

Anyone important enough has my number and the house phones too.

It wouldn’t be my dad.

He has his own keys.

The doorbell chimes a second and then a third time, making me start to worry.

I’m here all alone, and whoever it is isn’t going anyplace anytime soon.

What if it is dad? Maybe he lost his keys.

Maybe there was an accident?

And so it goes, round and round in my mind until I have to get up the courage to at least have a peek through the living room curtains.

I creep down the hallway, hoping the sound of the wind and rain covers the creaking floor when the sound of a heavy knock makes me scream momentarily before I can cover my mouth.

“Brooke?” Brooke!”

It’s a deep, powerful voice. Commanding and strong.

It sounds familiar, but nah. It couldn’t be.

There’s a heavier thumping on the door, followed by the same voice demanding I open up or he’ll kick it in.

“It’s Trent Latham, Brooke. Just tell me you’re safe,” he pleads, and I feel all the fear and worry rush out of me like a plug has been pulled.

Without even thinking I rush to the door, hurrying to unlock and pull it wide open.

There’s a rush of frigid air from outside, cutting through my jammies and finding every hole, every exposed bit of my flesh.

But I don’t care.

Anything’s worth it to see him again. Anything.

I almost hug him. At least, that’s what I want to do but he takes me firmly by the elbows, asking me if I’m alright.

“I heard a scream, my god Brooke, are you alright?”

Hearing him so concerned, feeling his huge hands holding me up, I’m more than alright.

But then I remember the reunion. Seeing him take out that drunk guy who groped me, and then coming back in with that… woman on his arm.

I’m supposed to be mad at Trent Latham, and it’s getting mighty hard to even remember why let alone feel it when all I want is for him to hold me with those huge arms of his.

Hold me in his arms so I can nuzzle into his perfect body.

“I… I tried to catch you before you left,” he says almost sheepishly, loosening his grip on me and looking down at his feet.

“You seemed pretty well occupied as far as I could tell,” I almost hiss. Not a hint of venom in my voice. Well, not much.

His eyes rush to meet mine, and his hands take hold of me again.

“I don’t even know that woman, I swear,” he says, setting his jaw tight, his eyes full of nothing but the truth.

He’s got no reason to lie to me, about that woman or about anything else.

“She seemed like she had a good grip on you, I just assumed—” I start.

“Well don’t,” he says firmly, moving one of his hands up to cup my face, lifting my chin a little and making my breath shiver.

“Don’t assume anything unless I tell you directly,” he adds just as firm like he’s as mad I am now that we even had such a stupid misunderstanding.

“I just figured you might have another date is all, not just that woman who grabbed you,” I finish, wanting it to sound as if it’s no big deal but feeling like I need to sit down from the shock of my relief.

“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” he asks, his lip curling into a smile as his eyes move from mine, down to my jammies.

Holding his gaze for a moment here and there as I feel my nipples stiffen in a way that has nothing to do with the cold.

“My dad—” I say without thinking.

Idiot!

“I mean, I should call my dad and let him know what’s happened. He might be worried,” I tell him, watching him shrug and then look at me askew.

“So you’re not gonna ask me in?” he asks, slightly taken aback.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” I stammer, reaching out for him, grateful to feel his arm under my tiny hand. My eyes begging him not to go.

“I just mean I should call my dad,” I murmur, feeling like I’ve taken my first breathe since he arrived once he steps in and I close the door behind us both.

Trent doesn’t mention my dad or my need to call him. He glances around with a little frown nodding before he focuses on me again.