If he’d been a consistent, nurturing figure in my life, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But my dad pretty much abandoned my mom and me for an epic redo. He left us when I was eleven, got himself a new wife, spawned two new sons, and never looked back.
Actually, that wasn’t quite true. He noticed me when I took out all my pent-up anger at him on my game. I became a water polo beast…the star athlete he’d hoped to groom all along. He started showing up to my games and making an “effort.” Sort of.
He didn’t cheer me on like other parents. No, my dad played coach. He made lists of all the things I’d done wrong in the pool and ways I could improve my game.
He was exhausting. But he was still my dad.
And while I’d like to think I had a better perspective now where he was concerned, I couldn’t quite shake the sense of “duty,” as if I somehow owed him a glory he hadn’t achieved himself. That thought didn’t mesh with the abandonment issues I obviously hadn’t quite put behind me.
Whatever. That was for me to figure out. He wasn’t going to change.
“I’m pretty good,” I replied.
“Great. Glad to hear it. Any news on the team roster?”
See? I knew this wasn’t a parental check-in.
“No. It should be posted soon, though.”
“Ah, all right. Let me know. I’ll need to make my reservations. How many people can you get into the games?” he asked.
“Four, I think.”
“Four? There’s got to be a way to get a couple more in. I’d like to bring Colleen and the boys. They’d love to see their big brother play in Japan,” Dad enthused.
Un-fucking-believable. I couldn’t pick my half brothers out in a crowd without help. I hadn’t seen them in years. And his wife? Really?
“Right. I’m not going to worry about tickets until I actually make it on the roster.”
He gave a phony-sounding laugh. “You’ll make it. No doubts. Take care, Gabe. I’ll check in with you next week.”
I ended the call and tossed my cell onto the coffee table with an irritated growl.
Like I told him…getting tickets was the least of my worries. And freaking out about my shoulder wasn’t wise either. Which left me with…him.
Look, I didn’t hate my dad. I’d learned to accentuate the positives and put the worst of my teenage angst behind me where he was concerned a long time ago. But the twelve-year-old kid in me remembered scouring the bleachers for my dad, hoping he’d come home if I scored enough points. Pathetic, huh?
Thankfully, I had people in my life who liked me for me. Who’d want to know that I was healthy and happy before they asked what I could do for them.
I picked up the remote, turned the Dodger game on louder than necessary, and sighed. I suddenly couldn’t wait for Derek to get home.
An hour later, the lock clicked on the front door.
“Hi, honey. I’m home!”
I smiled at my boyfriend’s breezy greeting, muted the game, and gingerly stood. “Hey.”
Derek swept into the living room of our two-bedroom bungalow, dropped his computer bag on the sectional sofa, and set a large paper bag on the coffee table before snaking his arm around my waist.
“I brought dinner from the café. Your mom made turkey-and-white-bean chili and that corn bread you love. It’s a good thing she saved you a couple of pieces, ’cause we sold out of it by four o’clock.”
“Mmm. Thank you.” I put my left hand on his nape and fused my mouth to his, tilting my head slightly to deepen the connection. After the day I’d had, this was exactly the medicine I needed. My man, warm chili, and my mom’s famous…yum.
Derek licked the seam of my lips and slid his tongue inside. He grabbed my ass, rubbing his denim-clad cock against mine. He nipped my jaw as he stepped aside and moved his hands, resting them on my shoulders…and on top of the now-lukewarm ice pack secured with a Velcro strap over my boo-boo.
He froze. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”
“Meh, it’s nothing. I might have hyperextended it. I just need ice and rest.” I kissed him again. “And food.”
Derek gave me a thorough once-over, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll reheat the chili and put it in a real bowl for you. I’ll even give you all the corn bread.”
“You’re the best, but I don’t mind sharing.” I ran my fingers along the center of his chest, pushing his Bonne Terre T-shirt out of the way to squeeze his nipples and run my fingers down his sides.
He tipped his chin and purred like a happy cat when I licked the column of his throat.
Sometimes I couldn’t believe my luck. This man was my world. He made the static disappear and brought me a clarity I wasn’t sure I could muster on my own.