“Oh?” Mom steps back, her gaze lifting to my father who’s sinking into a chair at the head of the table. “Well, we’ll have room for one more just in case.”
The second the words leave her mouth, the doorbell rings.
Dad frowns and starts to rise, but Mom is already on her feet and heading into the hallway while I strain my neck to see.
Maybe Teagan decided to come, after all?
I have half a mind to follow my mother to the door to see for myself. It would be just like him to hang up with me after promising to see me at noon, then show up here to surprise me.
The thought makes me smile, but the second Mom bustles into the room with Chance beside her, it vanishes.
What the hell is he doing here?
The synapses in my brain fire, trying to make sense of it because the Chance I know is scared to death of my secret.
My jaw tightens as I watch my father rise and clap him on the back while pulling him into his chest in one of those bro hugs men do, then sits back down. “Have a seat, son,” he says, waving to the empty chair beside him, the one across frommine.
Suddenly, I’m not so hungry, which really pisses me off because . . . crepes.
My gaze tracks Chance’s every move as he slides into his chair. I don’t even bother to hide my disgust for him as he sits and nods in Sophie’s direction. “Hey, Sophie,” he says, and I havethe insatiable urge to both pluck his eyes out for looking at her. Instead, I pull her under my arm to protect her.
On the rare occasion he’s at our house and not huddled in my father’s office watching game tape or discussing new plays or anything football related, he barely acknowledges her existence. It’s been like that since the day she was born, and I think I like it better that way.
“I’m so glad you could make it, honey. Ed just got done telling us he didn’t think you would. And look, Lane is actually here for a change. It’s the first time in forever we’ve all been together for brunch. Gosh”?she glances over at me?“whenwasthe last time?”
“It’s been about four years,” I say, deadpan.
Chance stiffens before his eyes flicker between my mother and me. “Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat. “I didn’t think I was going to be able to come, but then at the last minute, everything worked out.” His gaze settles on mine, his voice lowering. “Now that I know Lane’s here, I’m really glad it did.”
Rage boils my blood as I stare him down. Clearly, he’s calling my bluff. He doesn’t think I’ll tell my parents the truth. And much to my dismay, he’s right.
Guess he knows me better than I thought.
I don’t know if anything would push me to tell my father the truth when I know how completely devastated he would be. Especially not when I’m so close to having Chance out of my life for good.
All I have to do is get through the rest of the year. With any luck, he’ll be drafted early and gone. I won’t have to see him all the time. I won’t have to hear about him every day or see the pride in my father’s eyes when he mentions him by name.
No more pretending like seeing him doesn’t fill me with a toxic combination of resentment and guilt at hiding the truth.
I tear my eyes from his, no longer wanting to look at him. He doesn’t deserve my attention, but luckily, I don’t have to do much except eat because Dad turns the conversation to football as everyone begins to fill their plates.
I take care of Sophie first, cutting a crepe into bite-sized pieces to make it easier for her to eat before I start on my own plate, all while ignoring the disgusting amount of praise my father heaps on Chance for his performance at the last game. Part of it stems from his own pride; I know this. My father shaped Chance into the football player he is today, and now he’s going places. I don’t blame him for being proud of that, but it still sucks to sit here and listen to it.
My mother, God bless her, does what she always does best and listens raptly, smiling and commenting in all the right places.
I used to be able to do that.
I used to be able to go along with it.
But I can’t anymore.
I’m done, not to mention irritated with sheer arrogance at the man across from me as he tries to catch my eye and smile.
“Teagan had a great game, too,” I say, glancing up from my plate to offer my father a pointed stare. Across from me, Chance’s glare bores into my skull. “He had some incredible blocks, not to mention the touchdown he got. Oh, and if he hadn’t recovered that fumble by the Lions, we’d have been seriously screwed considering we only won by three points.”
My father’s forehead creases, and he hesitates before saying, “That, he did. I have to admit, I didn’t give him much play time after, uh . . .” He clears his throat. “I’ve had some doubts about him, especially after an incident at practice the other night, but he proved to me yesterday afternoon how much he wants this. His performance wasn’t lost on me.”
I nod, shifting to lock eyes with Chance. “I’ll be sure to tell him when I see him next,” I drawl as a slow smile curves my lips.