Page 44 of Hard Count
“That went well,” Nash says, standing behind me and kissing my neck while I rinse all the spoons and forks after dinner.
“It’s definitely been worse,” I grumble, still mad at their insistence to look at childhood photos. My dad went to go hunt them down while we put away the leftovers. Nash gives me space so I can put all the silverware in the dishwasher. I wash my hands and wipe up the trail of water I’ve left on the counter.
“Come here.” He holds out a hand and I gladly let him cradle me. There’s a level of safety I feel when I’m wrapped up in his arms. It’s like being held behind some kind of force field. Nothing can hurt me here. Anyone who tries will only cause harm to themselves.
His hands brush through my hair and down my back. I inhale a deep breath of his woodsy scent and instantly feel more relaxed.
“He’s trying.” He kisses the top of my head.
“Is that what that was?” My words come out mumbled against his chest.
He cups the side of my neck and lifts my head. “Yes. And I think you were too. You didn’t sass him back once.” His thumb grazes the corner of my mouth. I have the urge to stick my tongue out and lickit.
“It was a struggle,” I say as my eyes bounce between his eyes and lips. Nash moves less than a centimeter but it feels more significant as he gets closer to my mouth. My pulse beats against his palm still cupping my neck.
“I found the photos. Are you about finished in here? It’s almost time for kickoff.” My dad’s voice is a bucket of cold water dumped over us. Nash drops his hand and jerks away. I also take a step back, putting even more distance between us.
“Yeah, we’re coming. I was just wrapping up the dishes.” I nod toward the dishwasher.
My dad’s eyes ping pong between us before nodding and retreating back to the den. My shoulders drop and I release a breath. “That was close.” I press my palm against my racing heart. We’re too new to have my dad involved.
There’s an unsaid rule about dating the coach’s daughter. If he were to ask, I would tell him the truth. He likes Nash. After he got over the fact I was dating someone, I think he would be happy for us.
Dad pops his head back in the kitchen, startling me. “Is there something going on between the two of you?” he asks, waving a finger back and forth in our direction. Nash stiffens and fear flashes in his eyes as if he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Dad,” I begin as Nash says, “No, sir.”
His answer sucks the air from my lungs. Those two words have drained me of all the warmth I felt moments ago.
“Not a thing,” I agree with the same chill I feel in my bones. “We’re just friends.”
My dad’s eyes meet mine and I plaster a smile on my face. “Uh-huh,” he grunts, his eyes hard and focused on our body language. I try to relax and act natural but it’s proving to be difficult.
I’ve never felt a connection like the one I have with Nash with anyone else before. I don’t think this is something you can fake but Nash could date anyone. Why would he risk everything he’s worked hard for by messing around with his coach’s daughter.Why would he risk it for me?
“Should we go then? I want to see how Clemson handles Tennessee since we play them next week,” he says, masking an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint on his face. “Maybe you can tell me what you see.”
“Sure.” I smile back at him. He’s including me. That’s something he hasn’t done in years. My dad is making an effort and I can’t even enjoy it because it's tainted with the way Nash is making me feel. He keeps trying to get my attention but I can’t look at him right now.
My hands shake as I stop short of the entry into the den. My dad gets comfortable in his favorite recliner. When Nash settles himself on the couch, it hits me how much his rejection hurt me. I can’t sit here with them and pretend it doesn’t or that nothing is happening between us because he doesn’t want to man up in front of my dad. The fact that he can pisses me off.
“Are you going to stand there the whole game?” Dad asks.
“No. I’m not feeling very well. I’m going to go lay down. Enjoy the game.” I retreat down the hall and upstairs to my old bedroom. It looks exactly as it did before I left for college. The room was only used one or two days a week during our scheduled visitation yet I was allowed to decorate it however I wanted. And now it’s a shrine to what once was.
I rest my forearms on my tall dresser and pick up a photo of me and my dad sitting at the bottom of a slide. My bright white toddler hair is freshly windblown having just dropped a few feet and a giant smile adorns my face. My dad has a full beard and a backwards cap on his head. It’s his smile hidden under all that scruff and the way he’s looking at me with light in his eyes that makes me stare at him in wonder. I can’t recall a time I’ve witnessed this smile first hand. If it weren’t captured in this photo, I wouldn’t think it was possible.
Sighing, I push off the dresser and crawl onto the bed over the comforter. What I should do is call a ride share and leave. Riding back to campus with Nash doesn’t sound appealing at the moment. What did I expect him to say? He has more at stake than I do. Of course he picked making his coach happy over me. I pull at a loose thread on the comforter until it’s long enough to wrap around my finger when there’s a soft knock on the door.
“Your dad’s worried about you. He thinks the crab might have been bad or something,” Nash says from the doorway behind me. I keep my eyes on the single thread I’ve been toying with. It’s wrapped so tight the tip of my pointer fingeris turning an angry purple color. I let it go and do it all over again.
The door closes and shortly after the mattress dips with the weight of his body. “I panicked, baby. I’m sorry.” His fingers are like a ghost running down the length of my arm. “I’m messing everything up before I even get you to like me.”
“I like you plenty. That’s why I’m in here by myself.” I flip onto my back when he starts laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“You are.” He dips his head and rubs his nose up the side of my face. “As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. Not because it upset you but because it wasn’t true. We both know something is happening between us. Has been for a long time.”
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t even know I existed let alone liked me at first.”
