Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love)

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Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love) Page 11

by Anne-Marie Meyer


  “Sounds good,” Dad said as he smiled over at me. “Hey, Tiny?” he called right before I disappeared.

  I hesitated and turned. “Yeah?”

  “Make sure to bring a bucket for all your tears.”

  I laughed a maniacal laugh and then took the stairs two at a time. Once I was showered, I dressed in a pair of shorts and a flowy t-shirt and made my way downstairs to find Dad sitting on the couch, studying his phone.

  He leaned over it and typed with his thumbs. Like he was texting someone. But who? I didn’t think that Dad even texted his friends.

  “Xavier?” I asked as I grabbed my Converses from the entryway and walked over to the couch.

  Dad snapped his gaze up, dropping his phone to his leg. “What?”

  I stared at him. Wow, he was acting strange. “Are you texting Xavier?” Then I shook my head. “Wait, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask. What I meant was, since when do you text your friends?”

  “I’m not that old. My friends and I text.”

  I snorted as I slipped my feet into my shoes. “Right.”

  When my gaze made its way over to the coffee table, I saw the wine glasses from the night before.

  Ms. Swallow.

  How on earth could I have forgotten?

  “So, that was weird, huh? Ms. Swallow being here last night.” I eyed him, waiting to see his response.

  Just as I suspected, his cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah, it was nice of her to come hang out with an old fart like me.”

  Hang out? Old fart? What was with him? He never talked like that and most definitely didn’t act all flustered when talking about another teacher.

  “Was it a date?”

  “A date? What? No.”

  There that voice was again. Something was going on and he was not being truthful about it. “Isn’t there some rule in every parenting book that says you shouldn’t introduce your children to your girlfriend until you’re sure it’s serious?”

  My chest squeezed. Why was I reacting this way? What did it matter if he liked Ms. Swallow? I didn’t care. Except, he’d forbidden me to fall in love, and I felt a bit betrayed that he seemed just fine with it happening to him.

  “Ms. Swallow is not my girlfriend.” He sighed and leaned back. “And if she were, there’s not a lot I can do about you not meeting her. She is your teacher.”

  I stood, suddenly feeling really anxious. “Ugh, Dad. Why would you even entertain the idea of you and her? What happened to ‘love sucks’? You always say that boys leave you brokenhearted and pregnant.”

  Dad laughed, making me more upset. I hated that he thought I was being funny. “Angelica is not a hormonal teenage boy. I figured I didn’t have to make that clear.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because every boy is just out to take my flower…” Back track. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with my dad. “I mean, virtue.”

  Dad’s face turned bright red. How had this conversation gone so horribly? I swallowed and tried to still my frustration.

  “It just feels a little hypocritical that you’re here, unsupervised with a member of the opposite sex, and yet I can’t go to a fully staffed party with some boys.” I folded my arms.

  A stony expression passed over his face. He stood, tucked his phone into his pocket and then folded his arms. “The difference is, I am an adult. You are a child. While you are under my roof, you will follow my rules. I don’t have to explain myself or my actions.”

  He walked over to the front door and opened it. “Now, are you ready to play?”

  I stared at him. This was not cool in so many ways. Dad had never acted like this before. And maybe it was because I was rebelling. But I was beginning to realize that maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was him. And right now, he was the one that needed to change.

  So I slipped my shoes off and shook my head. “I’m not in the mood anymore,” I said as I turned and headed back up to my room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I didn’t feel any better an hour later. Sulking in my room did nothing for my mood. I felt bad. I hadn’t meant to snap at Dad like that. I was frustrated. Not only was Dad in my head, but the cute guy at school who liked me was using Dad’s stupid rule as a reason to stay away from me.

  It wasn’t fair.

  As frustration rose up in my chest, I groaned and rolled off the bed. I needed to get out of the house before I drove myself insane. I made my way over to my desk and picked up my phone that was still charging from last night.

  I had a text from Rebecca, singing hallelujah that I was still alive. And then another one cursing me for leaving her and not letting her know where I was going.

  And then there was one from Tyson. My heart picked up speed as I pressed on it with my thumb.

  Tyson: I’m hoping that you’ve gone to bed and you not texting me is not because your dad killed you for coming home late.

  I laughed, heat racing to my cheeks. I liked him. I really liked him. And even though he kept saying we could never be anything, I was drawn to him.

  Maybe I should see a therapist about that. Constantly doing the same thing but expecting a different result was the definition of insanity.

  I sighed as I flopped down on my bed.

  Me: Nope. Not dead. Sorry to disappoint.

  I laid the phone next to me and closed my eyes. Talking to Tyson had a healing effect on me. Suddenly, I didn’t care about Dad or how disappointed he would be if he found out I was talking to Tyson. He had his secrets—I could have mine.

  Tyson: Why would I be disappointed that you are alive? Now I can tell Cori to stop bugging me about texting you.

  I laughed. Cori was talking about me? I liked that his little sister liked me. Maybe she could convince him that I should become a more permanent fixture in his life.

  Me: Aww, tell Cori I miss her too.

  The next text came faster this time.

  Tyson: Bad idea. Now she wants to see you again. Apparently, I look terrible in a gown and heels. She wants someone who looks like a princess, and I’m not making the cut.

  Me: This I have to see. You in heels? Genius!

  Tyson: I don’t think I’d ever come back from that.

  I waited for him to text me more. It felt strange that he just left the conversation like that.

  Tyson: Sorry. Squirt is bugging me again. So, what do you say? Help a guy out? Appease his little sister?

  My heart began to race. Tyson wanted to see me again? After last night, I figured it would take a miracle for us to get together again. Well, a miracle or chemistry.

  Me: Sure. What did you have in mind?

  Tyson: The screams that come out of that girl. I think she woke up every dog in the neighborhood and they are all now howling. You’re making a little girl very happy. How about I come grab you in a half hour?

  Me: Perfect

  Luckily, by the time I made my way downstairs, Dad was gone. He left a note about needing to run some errands. He apologized for what happened and said if I was going anywhere, to make sure I leave a note.

  So I did just that. I left a note saying I was going out. I didn’t tell him where I was going or who I was going with. Just that I was gone.

  Tyson pulled up in front of my house with an apologetic look on his face. I smiled as I opened the door and climbed in. Cori was basically jumping up and down on her booster seat. Thankfully, she had a seatbelt on.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  I nodded as I pulled the seatbelt over my lap. “So, where are we going?” I asked, turning to give Cori a huge grin.

  “I wanna tell her. I wanna tell her,” Cori yelled.

  Tyson laughed. “Okay, squirt. You can tell her.”

  “Princess land!” She screamed, pumping her fists in the air.

  “Princess land?” I asked, turning to see Tyson grinning as he studied the road.

  “That’s what she calls Disneyland.”

  I laughed as I settled back in my seat. “It’s the perfect place for a little girl.”
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  Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the parking lot. After Tyson paid, he found a spot and turned off the car. Cori was already out of her seat and pulling on the door handle.

  “Cori,” Tyson said, his voice growing serious.

  I could see the frustration in her face when she turned around. She knew his tone and what it meant.

  “You need to wait until one of us is out. I don’t want you getting hit by a car,” he said.

  She sighed and nodded.

  After I got out, I opened her door, and she hopped out. “Thanks, Tiny,” she said, smiling up at me and threading her hand through mine.

  I stared at our clasped hands. Was it wrong that I loved the fact that she liked me? Maybe it’d help Tyson realize that we were perfect for each other. After all, didn’t kids have like a sixth sense? They could tell if someone was bad or good. If Cori liked me, I was obviously good.

  Tyson rounded the car and glanced down at our clasped hands and then up to meet my gaze. He had a softness to his countenance. I wanted to read into it. I wanted to tell myself it was because he cared about me. But I’d put myself out there so many times now, and he just rejected me, time and time again.

  I didn’t think I could handle another round of I can’t do this, please forget what I just did. Right now, with everything going on with Dad, I didn’t think I could handle another hit. I’d shatter for sure.

  At the gate, Tyson stepped up to the ticket agent. She looked him over and told him the amount for the three of us. But there was no way I was going to let him pay for me. He was strapped for cash.

  “Just for the two. I’m paying for myself.”

  Tyson glanced over at me. “I don’t think so, Tiny. I’m paying for you as well.” He pulled out his card and set it down on the counter.

  I stared at him. “No. I’ll pay for myself.” I reached into my purse and pulled out some cash.

  Just as I laid it down, his hand rested on mine. My heart picked up speed from the contact. I swallowed, hating myself for the reaction I got from a simple gesture. I didn’t want to have feelings for him, but I couldn’t help it. I did.

  “Please, let me pay.” There was an earnest look in his eyes that told me to slide my hand out from under his and stuff my money back into my purse.

  I nodded, the woman ran his card, and we were walking into the park a few minutes later. Within steps of the entrance, a man with a camera around his neck stepped up to us.

  “A picture for the memory?” he asked.

  Tyson glanced over at me. “Um, sure.”

  He positioned us out of the sun with Cori between Tyson and me. After a few seconds, he shook his head and lowered his camera.

  “Can you two stand closer together?” he asked, waving his hand between us.

  I glanced over at Tyson, who hesitated and then nodded. It was like he was moving in slow motion. He stuck his arm out, wrapped it around my waist, and pulled me close. My breath caught in my throat as I reveled in the feeling of his body pressed against mine. Suddenly, we were outside of Cori’s room again and he was pressing me against the wall, kissing me.

  I wanted to feel that again.

  He finished taking the picture, handed us a ticket, and told us we could pick it up at the nearby kiosk anytime during our stay here. Tyson pocketed the paper and then turned to Cori.

  For a brief moment, I saw him brush his thumb against his fingertips. As if he were trying to rub away a feeling. Did he have the same reaction from our touch as I did? If that was the truth, why couldn’t he be honest with me?

  Cori was already bounding away, so I didn’t have time to stand there and examine his intentions, instead, I followed after them.

  “Where’re you going, Cori?” he asked, quickening his pace to follow after her.

  “To meet the princesses,” she called over her shoulder.

  When we finally caught up with her, Tyson grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up onto his shoulders. We walked in silence for a few seconds. I couldn’t help but notice how close his arm was to mine. It would be so natural to reach out and entwine my fingers with his.

  “Thanks,” he said, breaking the silence.

  I glanced over. “For what?”

  He smiled his million-watt smile, and I melted just a bit. “For coming with me. It’s great that we can still be friends.”

  My heart stopped. Friends. He wanted to be friends. I swallowed, forcing down my feelings of defeat as I glanced up at him. “Of course. We will always be friends. Besides, I’m here for Cori.” Then I leaned closer to him. “Besides, my princess tank was running dangerously low, so really, you’re doing me a favor.”

  He laughed, and I tried not to stare at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, if that’s the case, then you’re welcome.”

  “Churro!” Cori screamed, pulling Tyson’s head toward the man in a costume selling churros.

  “Jeez, Cori. You don’t have to pull on me.”

  Before he could resist, I pulled out my wallet and walked over. After paying for two extremely overpriced cinnamon-sugared churros, I handed one to Cori and offered half of the other to Tyson. He took it, but not before giving me a pointed look.

  I shrugged as I broke off a piece and put it in my mouth. “What?” I asked.

  He kept his gaze on me as he took a bite. “You need to stop doing that. This is my treat. That means I pay.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why? We’re friends. That means I pay for myself.”

  A pained expression passed over his face. It was nice to see that he liked that word as much as I did. I wasn’t the only crazy person in this relationship.

  “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you Tiny?”

  I gave him a mischievous look and shook my head. “Yeah, no.”

  Before he could respond, he brushed his hand through his hair. “Hey, squirt. Getting any cinnamon sugar in your mouth?”

  Cori giggled and took another bite. “We’re almost there!” she squealed, bouncing up and down and pointing to the building that looked as if it came straight from the movie Beauty and the Beast. Scrawled across the front was the words “Royal Hall: Greet the Princesses.”

  It was probably out of necessity, but Tyson swung Cori down and set her on the ground. She cheered as she approached the doors. And then stopped.

  Tyson glanced over at me with his eyebrows raised. I shrugged. We approached her to find that she had wide eyes and a downturned mouth.

  “What’s the matter, Cor?” Tyson asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

  She glanced over at him. “I’m not a princess,” she said, pulling at her shirt.

  My heart melted. “Yes you are,” I said, kneeling down next to her.

  She looked at me, and I saw that she had tears welling up in her eyes. “No. My dad said he would get me a princess dress for my birthday, but…” Her voice drifted off as a huge tear rolled down her cheek.

  Tyson scooped her up and walked over to the center of the courtyard, where he set her down right underneath the Rapunzel statue. He knelt down in front of her. Cori had her face covered with her hands by now. She was sobbing into them, her shoulders shaking.

  “Hey, princess, hey,” Tyson said, pulling at her hands.

  Cori fought it for a moment before she let him move them away. He reached out and wiped away the tears with his thumb.

  “Cori, it’s okay,” he said, dipping down to meet her gaze.

  She sniffled and nodded, her body shaking from the movement.

  “Even though your dad’s gone, I’m here. I’ll take care of you,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. “You’re my girl.” His voice was muffled from her hair.

  She pulled back and placed both hands on his cheeks. “You’re my Prince Charming,” she said, staring into his eyes.

  He nodded. “I want to be.”

  She hesitated and then nodded. “Yes.” She flung her arms around his neck. He straightened and spun her around. Aft
er a few seconds, she squealed as she flung her head back.

  When he stopped and set her on the ground, she looked up at him expectantly. He shrugged. “What?”

  “Now it’s Tiny’s turn,” she said, waving in my direction.

  I glanced down at her. “What? My turn for what?”

  She smiled up at me. “Tell her that she’s a princess and you are her Prince Charming.”

  My eyes widened. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. “Oh, sweetie, that’s okay. I’m good.” I swallowed, hoping my rejection of her offer would work.

  But I should have known. Instead of understanding, she shook her head, grabbed my hand, and shoved it into Tyson’s. “Nope. Every princess needs a Prince Charming.” She leaned closer to me. “I’ll loan you mine.”

  I nodded, hopefully the movement wasn’t as dorky as it felt. “That’s generous of you.”

  After my hand was firmly gripped by Tyson, Cori stepped back to watch. She waved for him to continue. I could feel his presence as he moved closer to me. It was one of those instances where we weren’t touching, but I was distinctly aware of his proximity to me.

  “You don’t have to—”

  He shook his head. “She won’t let this go.” He glanced down at me, and I could see a smile playing on his lips.

  Why was he so confident? I hated that, in an instant, he could turn me into a bumbling fool. And yet he remained as relaxed as could be.

  He steadied his gaze. “Tiny, you are—”

  “Touch her cheek, like you did with me,” Cori interjected.

  He glanced over at her and raised his eyebrows. From the corner of my eye, I saw her no-nonsense expression. I chuckled. “You’re in trouble when she’s a teenager.”

  He winced. “Don’t say those words. She’s going to be a nun.”

  Before I could respond, he reached up and cradled my cheek with his hand. There was a familiarity to his touch that caused my heart to swell. He was becoming a part of me. I knew him.

  He glanced down at me, and his gaze turned serious. “Tiny, you are a princess and I”—I watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple rising and falling—“am your Prince Charming.” His last words lingered on his lips. My gaze dipped down to study them.

 

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