Page 100 of Love at Second Down

Iwonder what Avery’s doing right now.

The thought drifts through my mind as the waitress places a stack of flapjacks in front of me.

“You always could eat your weight in pancakes.” Dad laughs, shaking his head as he salts his eggs. “It’s just like old times.”

I smile over at him, feeling a fleeting stab of guilt for daydreaming about Avery when my father traveled all this way to see me. I bow my head over my meal while the fluorescent lights flicker overhead. The little mom and pop diner is packed. Football fans and night owls fill nearly every booth. It’s the kind of place with checkered tablecloths, laminated menus, and twenty-four-hour breakfast—the kind Dad and I always used frequent after games as a kid. It wasn’t until high school that ourtradition changed, and football nights became a time to spend with Avery.

I reach for the maple syrup, my championship ring catching the light as I drizzle some over my food.

“That hardware looks good on you,” he says, motioning toward my ring. Then, with another grin, he raises his glass of orange juice. “To my son, the champion. I always knew you’d make it far.”

I beam as I clink my water glass to his, still riding the high of victory. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I hope this place is okay,” he says waving his fork as he glances around the place. “Good thing your friend isn’t with us. I’m sure she’s used to much finer accommodations.”

I shift in my seat. Dad’s always been insecure about working with his hands for a living and how much money he has. When I dated Avery in high school, my time spent around the Astors only exacerbated that. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out which “friend” he’s referring to.

“Seeing as how she’s used to eating in the campus cafeteria these days, I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded it.”

Dad huffs out what I think is a laugh as he takes a bite of his food. “Speaking of, when did that happen?”

I glance up at him, blinking. “Avery?”

He nods. “When you mentioned she was here on the phone the other day, I was surprised. And then I saw you run to her after the game and I was shocked.”

“You know things with us were never really over,” I say with a shrug.

“It sure as hell seemed like it was over.”

“Even during our time apart, I had feelings for her. Turned out she felt the same. So, she transferred to AAU this semester, and we . . . reconnected,” I say, keeping it short.

Dad narrows his eyes. “I have to say I’m surprised you’re willing to give her another chance.”

“Dad,” I say, the word sounding like a warning. “Listen, I know you’re probably worried about me, but—”

“Damn right I’m worried about you,” he snaps. “The last time you were with that girl she left you high and dry. Broke your heart. Ran off to some Ivy League school while you bled all over the football field.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Dad arches a brow, so I’m quick to add, “I mean, it was, but she had her reasons.”

With a sigh, I shove my plate aside and lean back in the booth. I’d planned on approaching him about everything Avery told me, but I didn’t want to get into this with him tonight. Instead, I just wanted a nice night out to celebrate my win without the past fucking everything up.

“Look, I know about the walkway collapse,” I say, testing his reaction.

“You . . . what?” He swallows, his dark gaze searching my face.

“Avery told me. She said her parents pressured her to break up with me because they were worried you thought Reginald had something to do with the collapse. So, they made you sign some sort of agreement with a clause to get workers’ comp that stated we couldn’t have further contact with their family in either a professional or personal capacity.”

He nods slowly, like he’s taking it all in. “I knew about the clause in the contract, of course. But I guess I didn’t know his reasoning.” Dad reaches up to scratch his jaw. “I guess when you have money, it makes you all kinds of paranoid.”

“Wait.” I frown. “So, you didn’t know anything about the cause of the collapse? I told Avery I thought it sounded crazy at the time. I said that if you knew, you’d do the right thing.”

“Damn right I would,” he says, stabbing a fork in my direction. “This just goes to show that the elite do and say what they want, no matter who gets hurt in the process.”

I have to admit, I’ve had the same thought myself.

“Which is exactly why I’m worried about you. What makes you think she won’t do it again? That her father won’t spin another tale because he doesn’t think a Huhn is good enough for his daughter?”

“It doesn’t really matter what he thinks. We love each other, Dad.”