Falling For Dad's College Rival

Okay, that’s three questions, but I’m dying to know here.

I ask her in an upbeat way, not trying to pry or judge either of them but I feel like I’ve hit a nerve when she goes quiet and only looks out the car window.

It’s a roadblock, but I’m glad I didn’t open with asking how she feels about older guys or has she considered starting a family - like tonight?

She’s not answering, so I carry on forward. Keeping it light.

Trying to anyway, but I can sense she’s upset for some reason.

“I only ask because you seem to get on well with your dad. I mean, going to the reunion with him…”

“Maybe you could ask him yourself,” she finally replies, turning with a little smile playing on her lips. Satisfied she’s given me a dose of my own line of medicine.

Touché.

She’s not upset or angry by the time we reach the college again, far from it. What I thought might be an emotional silence turns out to be a little shyness mixed with her thinking things through as much as I’ve been.

I don’t know this for sure, but it’s something I feel certain of when I offer her my hand to help her out of the car once we arrive.

“Here we are,” I say aloud, stating the obvious. Glad when it makes her smile.

“I’ll handle dad if you want,” she says softly, so soft I barely hear it, but the little reassuring squeeze of my hand tells me that I’ve not only chosen well, but I’m probably in for the ride of my life.

Chapter Nine

Brooke

There’s a dreamlike quality to returning to the reunion on Trent’s arm instead of my dad’s this time.

Even the stuffy old man at the door raises a brow and tips his hat, wishing us a ‘very pleasant evening.’

If Trent has any hesitation when it comes to my dad’s feelings or not wanting to cause a scene, it’s gone now. Once he takes my arm and we leave the car right up until when we’re seated at the main table, he never lets go.

A few words to one of the waiters and a knowing nod in the Dean’s direction sees us pick up where we never left off.

About to have the main course and scanning the room I can see my dad’s table so far away I doubt he’d even notice us.

My dad’s sitting with the same woman I saw him with earlier, and they look like they’re having a great time.

“So far so good,” I murmur to Trent as he squeezes my hand under the table in a silent reply.

The food is so-so, but I’m hungrier than I felt before and I finish my plate anyway before anyone else sitting at the long table, which makes Trent laugh quietly to himself.

He’s almost done as well, and I know he’s not kidding when he asks if I want seconds.

I shake my head no, but he calls the waiter over again and asks for another helping for himself.

“Sure?” he asks me, and I say no, even though a part of me wants to.

“I need more than what’s here,” he remarks, but nobody else seems to notice making me wish I’d gotten extras too.

“We can always grab something later,” he lets me know when he finishes his second plate. Shrugging with a smile and repeating himself. “I need to eat, a lot.”

I sigh inwardly.

Is there anything that isn’t perfect about this man?

The plates are cleared, and there’s a gap between courses, I guess. This means the room starts to hum with conversation instead of the clinking of cutlery.

Trent has a few well-wishers stop by our table, as well as the Dean, with who he has a few lengthy but quiet words with.

Most eyes I can see though aren’t impressed by seeing Trent, and I wonder again just how bad a guy he was.

What happened to make so many people dislike him so much?

Still, there’s no sign of that creepy Barbie look-alike woman, and my dad’s yet to spot us together so all good so far.

Sensing my nerves about my dad, even though I promised I could handle it, Trent leans over, making me jump a little when his hand touches mine. But in the best way.

“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” he asks, adding that there’s more than one person in the room who isn’t happy to see him although most people either don’t care or don’t bear a grudge.

“Never,” I tell him. “I’m having a great time,” I lie. Wishing that, if this was a date, I would kill to have it anyplace else.

Trent can sense my mood and smiles to himself. “I think I have to say a few words, for the Dean. Then we can get outta here if you want?” he suggests and I feel relief like nothing else wash over me.