Knox (Chicago Blaze 4)

This time, she holds my gaze steadily for a few long seconds before going back to her food.

She knows I’m right. We’re good together. But like Luca said, it may take time to persuade her.

When I take Reese home that night, I want to come inside like nobody’s business, but I don’t let on. I walk her to her apartment door and give her a hug, then force myself to leave.

“Call me if you want to hang out again,” I say as I go, fighting my instinct to make plans here and now.

“Okay. Thanks again,” Reese says, looking slightly confused.

I guess she was expecting me to try harder to keep our night going. But she had quite a bit of wine, and I’m a man of my word. I said tonight was just friends.

Next time, though, I’ll choose my words more carefully.Chapter ElevenKnox“Knox…I didn’t know you were coming.”

My dad’s voice is raspy and faint. He tries to push himself up in his bed, but his arms are too weak and he softly collapses back onto the mattress.

“It was a last minute thing,” I say, rushing over to help him.

But as I lean down to support him, he tries to push me away. There’s very little strength behind his effort, but I step back anyway, because he’s my dad. I won’t defy him.

“I don’t need help,” he insists.

My heart cracks in half as I watch him struggle to put his upper body weight on one elbow and ease himself up into a more upright position. My mom told me he’s gotten worse, but I wasn’t prepared to see him like this.

It takes him a while to get settled, and then a little longer to catch his breath again. When he’s ready, I lean down to hug him. He puts his hands on my arms, but he can no longer hug me like he used to. As I gently embrace him, all I feel beneath his clothes is skin and bones.

“How are you, son?” he asks as I pull away and sit down in the chair beside the hospital bed my mom had put in their den.

I swallow, forcing down the lump in my throat. I won’t let myself get emotional in front of him. I came here hoping to make him feel a little better, not worse.

“Pretty good,” I say, putting on a smile. “We beat Anaheim 5–1 last night.”

“I saw that. The start of it, anyway, on TV. You looked good out there, son.”

“Thanks.”

My dad has always watched hockey games with an eagle eye. When we talk about games, he usually comments on every great play or bad call that took place, even weeks after the game happened. He doesn’t seem to have the energy to do that anymore, and that wrecks me.

Not only is my dad physically slipping away from us, he no longer has the mental energy he used to, either. Cancer is a cruel thief, slowly stealing everything that makes my dad who he is. He’s always been a strong, proud man. Needing anyone’s assistance just to sit up has to cut him deep.

He’s also always been a better listener than a talker. He’s not as reserved as I am, but he’s never been much of a conversation starter. He’s always glad to see me and my sister, though.

“How long are you staying?” he asks me.

“Just tonight. I have to fly home tomorrow around ten in the morning.”

He nods.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“I’m tired a lot of the time. But your mom and the nurses are taking good care of me.”

He hasn’t left this room in a while; I’m pretty sure Dad doesn’t have much news to catch me up on. So we’ll have to talk about me.

“I met this woman,” I say, surprising myself. I wasn’t going to tell him about Reese, but she’s been on my mind so much since the cookout last weekend that it just comes out. “Her name’s Reese.”

Dad gives me a faint smile. “Like the peanut butter cups.”

“Yeah.”

“She must be sweet, then.”

“She is. But she’s also pretty feisty. And gorgeous…and smart.”

Dad’s eyes light up as he listens. I keep talking.

“She was engaged. A little over a year ago, she walked down the aisle and her fiancé fessed up that he’d slept with two of her bridesmaids.”

Dad’s brow furrows with disbelief as he mutters, “What a dickhead.”

“Yeah, so now Reese is afraid of being hurt again. She’s built a life for herself without a man in it, and she doesn’t want to risk anything.”

Leaning back against his pillows, Dads hums his understanding.

“I don’t know…” I shake my head. “I’m glad she’s happy, but I know she’d be happier if we were together.”

My father cracks a smile. “You get your modesty from me, I’m afraid.”

“I’d never let her down,” I say earnestly. “I just have to convince her to give me a chance…before she gives some other asshole a chance.”