Page 81 of You're The One
We walk the short distance to the garden terrace where my dad and my chosen family are waiting. My dad stands when we approach, his usual goofy grin firmly in place.
It’s good to see him. I don’t get much time with him when my hockey schedule is in full swing, so we usually catch up during the off-season. We spend a couple of weeks every summer at alittle cabin I bought on a lake in Ohio, not far from where I grew up. We fish, and we shoot the shit.
But the show blew those plans up. The last time I saw him was during his mid-season visit to Chicago earlier this year.
He’ll still come stay with me and catch a few games. I’ve tried more times than I can count to convince him to move closer, but he’s stuck to his guns. Ohio is his home. He never remarried or really dated after my mom, but my childhood home and the small community he’s built keep him there.
I value any time I get with him. Unlike my mom, he’s always been steady and reliable. My biggest supporter.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Emma shakes his hand and, if I know him at all, impresses him with her polite manners.
Dad chuckles, already charmed. I take the seat beside her and try to stay present, nodding at the right moments as she answers questions about her family, her career goals, and her plans for the future.
The two of them spend more time than I thought possible talking about birds.
“Did you know hummingbirds can beat their wings up to eighty times per second?” he practically sings.
“That’s because they have incredibly strong chest muscles relative to their size,” Emma adds, smiling like human sunshine.
I bet it’s how Mia would describe me. The thought makes my lips twitch.
Hannah must mistake it for something else, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “She’s really great, isn’t she?”
“Yup.” I pop the “p.”
Everyone loves Emma. Hannah is already inviting her to join their book club. Logan’s planning double dates. My dad has bonded with her over some app that identifies species based on their birdsongs.
If we were going off stats alone, Emma and I would be a perfect match.
She enjoys reading and works in publishing. She loves hockey—and not just because I play it. She’s open to moving anywhere, as long as there’s a direct flight to New York. She’s thirty, ready to settle down, and wants a family. She’s sweet. Toothachingly sweet. And she’s beautiful in that unassuming, yet every unattached guy in the room wants her kind of way.
And maybe that’s part of the problem. Even though I’m supposed to be free as the birds they can’t stop talking about, I feel anything but. Even my damn daydreams revolve around one woman.
I should be trying to follow the conversation. But my mind keeps drifting.
When my dad tells Emma she’s an impressive woman, I wonder what he’ll think of Mia.
When Logan jokes and the comment goes right over Emma’s head, I wonder if Mia would’ve fired back with some smart-ass remark just to get a rise out of him. Or if her snark is reserved for me?
I think I’d prefer it that way.
I realize my thoughts must be written all over my face when Logan watches me from across the table, one brow raised.
Shaking my head, I tune in just as Emma finishes a story. Everyone’s laughing, so I join in with a forced chuckle, having no idea what we’re laughing about. I take a long sip of water to cover my distraction.
When Emma excuses herself to the restroom, Logan eyes me over the rim of his glass. “You’re not into her.” More statement than question, his voice quiet enough not to be overheard.
Which brings me back to the problem I haven’t even begun to solve. What the hell am I gonna tell Logan about my situation with his sister?
Worse yet, is there even anything to tell him? What the hell do I do if Mia doesn’t want me back? Could I fall for any of the women left? Do I even want to?No.
All the other questions go unanswered.
“I like her fine,” I finally reply.
“You like herfine? Who are you, and what did you do with my friend?”
I shake my head and laugh.
