The Daddy Box Set

“Do you know nothing about the team?” She honestly expected me to believe that she knew none of us?

She shrugged and stared out at the ocean. “I don’t know nothing; I just don’t know much. I prefer it that way.”

“Ryder is my wide receiver.” I doubted that the information meant much to her. “And my best friend. We met in college and sort of stuck together, you know?”

She tilted her head and looked at me contemplatively. “Yeah, I do, actually. My best friend is Heather. We met when I was in my freshman year. She’s older than I am.”

“No shit; Ryder is three years older than me,” I told her.

Her eyes lit up, though it seemed like there was some kind of challenge in them. “I win then; Heather is 28. She’s four years older than me.”

“Figures that we’d both have best friends who were older.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why is that?” She seemed confused.

“I don’t know you. I don’t know your story, but something tells me that we were both forced to grow up way before our time.”

I didn’t have any fucking clue where that came from. I didn’t do emotions. I didn’t do any kind of deep, aside from the balls deep variety.

Thankfully, Gabrielle had the good sense to leave it there and didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t let it go without giving me shit for it, though. “Well, well. Look who's all insightful at the ripe old age of 24.”

“Don’t go blabbing about it. You’ll ruin my rep.”

“Oh yeah? Your secret is safe with me.” Her face grew serious as she crossed her heart.

“Wanna hope to die or stick a needle in your eye?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled a relaxed smile at me. “Not really, no. But I’ll keep your secret anyway.”

“So how about your secret?” Why the fuck was I asking that?

She paled. “What secret?”

“I couldn’t exactly help but overhear you and your dad the other day, arguing about the bar exam.”

“Oh, that.” The wind had been swept out of her sails. “It’s not a secret, really. The bar exam was just his dream, you know?”

“Yeah? It seems that it’s affecting you enough that you might have shared that dream with him.”

“Maybe. I just don’t know what I want anymore.” There was definitely more than her father to this issue.

It was obvious that she was a bit brokenhearted about her decision not to take the exam. “Want to tell me about it?”

We walked and talked, and walked some more. She talked about the bar exam, and her passion shone through. She became animated talking about it. She clearly enjoyed the prospect of becoming a lawyer, but there was something there. Other reasons for her not wanting to take the exam.

“You know, I think taking the exam would be good for you. You’re really passionate about it. Even I can tell that. Maybe it’s worth reconsidering.”

She stopped and stared out over the ocean. Then she surprised me again. “Maybe you’re right.”

I let it go after that, and the conversation turned light again. Our hands were intertwined most of the day, and as we approached our towels, she pressed herself closer to me.

“So, should we take this back to your place?”

This woman was seriously something else. I hesitated. She quickly let go of my hand, started gathering her towel, and turned to leave.

“Maybe next time,” I said. “I just don’t really bring women home to my place. Too complicated.”

“Sure, James, whatever. It was just a suggestion. I’ll see you around, okay?”