Campus Player

My muscles tense, and my eyes widen. “What do you mean?” Damn Sydney and her meddling ways. I knew I should have stuck with athletic shorts and a T-shirt.

He points to my outfit. “Just that Rowan is fortunate to be escorting such a beautiful girl this evening.”

Rowan’s lips tremble at the corners. “That’s exactly what I told her, Coach.”

“I don’t think you’ve worn a skirt in years.” Silently he racks his brain. “Maybe for high school graduation?”

I force out a laugh. “Oh, come on. That can’t be true.” Although now that I’m thinking about it, it probably is. “It was Sydney’s idea,” I grumble. “You can blame her for this.”

Dad gives me a questioning look. “Why would I do that? I like it. You should wear them more often. Right, Row?”

“Yup,” barely contained laughter simmers in his deep voice, “she looks great.”

Unaware of the stress practically choking the life out of me, Dad waves a hand. “Let’s get this meat on the grill so we can eat. I’m starving.” With that, he heads out the slider door and onto the patio.

“You really need to chill out,” Rowan whispers in my ear when we’re alone.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Not until the air is cleared.

“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do this tonight. There’s no hurry.”

As tempting as the offer is, I shake my head. Even though there’s nothing in his expression or voice to give away his true feelings, I know he would be hurt if I chickened out and didn’t fill my father in. I don’t want Rowan to think I’m embarrassed to be with him. “I’m nervous,” I admit. “I’m not sure how Dad will react. I’ve never dated one of his players before.”

“In the end, everything will be fine.” He shrugs as if unconcerned with how the evening will turn out. “And if it’s not, then we’ll deal with it. There’s no reason to get worked up before we know how everything will play out. It’s a waste of energy.”

Under normal circumstances, I would wholeheartedly agree with the statement. But these aren’t exactly normal circumstances, now are they?

I release another steady exhalation and try to settle my jangled nerves. When I don’t budge from the entryway, Rowan’s hand settles on my lower back before giving me a little nudge toward the kitchen. It feels very much like I’m walking to my death.

Thirty minutes later, the hamburgers and hot dogs are ready, and the three of us are sitting at the patio table outside. The oversized umbrella is up, shading us from the evening sun that peeks over the tree line. I grab a hamburger and load it with the works. Rowan and Dad strategize nonstop about the upcoming game. If Rowan weren’t an all but surefire draft pick, I think Dad would love to bring him on as an assistant coach.

It’s kind of funny. In the past, their banter and closeness annoyed me. Their relationship is easy. Maybe I was even a little jealous of it. Dad and Rowan can talk about football until the cows come home. Then they can talk about it some more.

Sure, I love the sport. I grew up with a football in my hands before it was swapped out for a soccer ball. That being said, there’s only so much I can talk about it before my eyes glaze over.

“Is something wrong?” Dad cuts into my thoughts when he points to my untouched plate. “You’ve barely eaten a bite.”

“Oh.” I suck my lower lip between my teeth and shrug. It’s on the tip of my tongue to blurt out the truth, but the words refuse to budge. “I guess I’m not very hungry.”

With a frown, he studies me more closely. “Are you feeling okay? Burgers are one of your favorites.”

I shake my head, feeling like the world’s biggest chicken for wimping out. “I ate a big lunch.”

“Huh.” He takes a bite of his burger before chewing and swallowing it.

I pick up my water and guzzle down half the glass. My throat is parched. If I’m lucky, it’ll wash away all of the anxiety eating me alive, and I’ll find the nerve to tell him what’s really going on.

“So,” Dad says conversationally, “you’ve been here for more than an hour. When were you two planning on spilling the beans about your relationship?”

The water goes down the wrong pipe, and I sputter before spitting it all over my plate. Tears fill my eyes as I have a coughing fit. Dad reaches over and gives my back a few good whacks, which doesn’t help alleviate the situation. A full sixty seconds tick by before I’m able to catch my breath. “What did you say?” I wheeze.

“You heard me.” Dad sits back and folds his arms across his chest. He’s wearing a black polo with a Wildcats emblem in the left upper corner. A matching black ball cap sits low over his eyes. “When were you gonna tell me that you two are seeing each other?”