If my dad couldn’t shelve the hypocrisy of the gruff, tattooed football player softening for the right woman, then we might have an issue.
Dad came around the island and took a seat next to mine. The shortening of the distance between us helped ease a little of the coiled tension in my stomach.
He drummed his fingers on the island. “Talk to me, Turbo.”
At my childhood nickname, I nudged him with my shoulder. “Not much to talk about,” I said, like the liar, liar, pants on fire I was. “He asked me out on a date, and I said I’d give him one shot. That’s not a crime.”
There was also the minor incident of I almost let him screw me against the side of his truck in the parking lot of my apartment but whatever.
Allie’s mouth dropped open, a perfect circle of gorgeous red lipstick. “Who asked you out?”
Silence descended, eerily and immediately.
Lydia glanced between our parents. “How about them Wolves, huh? They’re looking good this year.”
We all ignored her.
My dad and Allie exchanged a wordless glance, some silent conversation happening between them. They’d been able to do that forever and it was so inconvenient. Allie’s eyebrows lowered in confusion.
Ahh, so their loaded silent marriage language looks couldn’t convey names. Very good to know.
Dad motioned for her wine, and she slid it across the expanse of the island. With his arm outstretched, I could study the faded lines of his own extensive tattoos. If I looked hard enough, I could still see the curl of the F where my name was inked onto his body. Lydia’s was on his chest, and there was a small A underneath his simple gold wedding ring. That was one place my father could never judge Dominic. Because at one point, the man who raised me was also a ‘chip on his shoulder’ football player with something to prove.
Not that it would serve me well to remind him of that just yet.
After taking a sip of the wine, he passed it back to Allie. Lydia rolled her eyes and grabbed the bottle again, setting it between them.
“So he asked, or you’ve already gone out with Walker?” Dad asked.
“Ohhhhhhh,” Allie breathed, eyes widening in comprehension. She glanced at me. “Really? Dominic Walker?” she whispered, like the rest of our family wasn’t sitting in the same room. “Huh. Did not see that coming.”
“Doesn’t it concern you a little?” Dad asked Allie. “All I hear from Logan is that the vets can’t stand him. If you want to date a player, Faith, there are so many nice guys on the team right now.”
I didn’t want a nice guy. He had been a nice guy once too. Who held open doors and brought me to fancy restaurants and brought flowers on dates and brought me to meet his mother.
Then he wasn’t so nice. When he didn’t get what he wanted, he wasn’t nice at all.
My tongue fairly tingled from the effort it took not to get defensive of Dominic. One date, and I was ready to pull out the proverbial sword.
But instead of doing that, I sent Allie a pleading look. She’d wiped just as many of my tears as my dad had, but she’d never been the overly protective parent. She was the one who trusted us to step out and make our own mistakes. She winked.
Standing from the chair, she walked around the island. Dad widened his legs on the stool, and Allie stepped straight into his embrace.
Lydia and I exchanged smiles because if there was a Universal Gold Medal for the ability to handle Luke Pierson, Allie would win every single day of the week and twice on Sundays.
“I think,” she said quietly, hands sliding up his shoulders, “that we have a very, very smart daughter with a good head on her shoulders.”
“I don’t think she’s talking about me,” Lydia said in a stage whisper.
Dad breathed out a laugh. When he opened his mouth to say something, Allie gently laid two fingers on his mouth. “And I also think we don’t know Walker well enough to say he’s a lost cause. Nor do we need to remind Faith of her past relationship.”
“No, you don’t,” I added gently.
My dad looked between me and Allie, reticence stamped all over his handsome features. He’d aged so well, a small threading of silver along his temples and in the stubble he let grow out in the winter. And underneath that exterior, still tattooed and strong, was a dad who just didn’t want his daughter’s heart broken again.
No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t protect me and Lydia from everything. It was a tough pill to swallow for a guy who always wanted to be the best at whatever he did.
Briefly, they kissed, a sign that he was ceding the battle for now. Allie pulled away, but Dad’s hands lingered around her waist until she came in for another kiss.
Lydia rolled her eyes and went to grab a glass of wine for herself. Neither one of us drank very much, but I motioned for her to get me one as well.
By the time my hand was curled around the glass, Allie had extricated herself and gave me a brief squeeze. “You better tell me later,” she whispered into my ear.
I nodded, thankful that the subject was dropped, without any explanations. It was weird to be the one at the center of a family topic that was sensitive enough to require careful handling. Normally, that was Lydia’s place, which she relished with great enthusiasm. Last time a family dinner required the finesse of a detonations expert, she told Dad she was thinking about partnering with an edible lingerie line.
That had not gone well.
It was the only time in Pierson family history that my dad had yelled at us, with all the full weight of his deep, scary football player voice. And believe me, when your father uses that particular big, scary football player voice to say, you will not model grape flavored nipple covers for the world to see, you never, ever forget it. It scarred all of us to varying degrees, but given Lydia was seventeen at the time, she’d wisely dropped the idea.
As casual conversation took over, we gathered around the smaller table in the kitchen, rather than the monstrosity that dominated our formal dining room. This was one of Dad’s rules. The Family Dinner Rule.
There was no amount of money in the world that should replace our ability to make our own meals, set our own table, and sit down as a family to eat. Which is why, once a week, we did exactly that. We rotated weeks, on who was responsible for creating the meal, and everyone else was in charge of cleanup.
Tonight, Dad had whipped up grilled chicken and vegetables, with some baby red potatoes on the side. It wasn’t anything that you’d find at a five star, Michelin-rated restaurant, but somehow, it was these normal weekly meals that represented my very favorite part of our slightly abnormal family.
My stepmom commanded a sports empire worth billions, and she sat with her feet tucked up underneath her legs, laughing at something Lydia had done earlier in the day. Dad, even though he now owned a few businesses, sat on a few boards in the Seattle area, had traded in his shirt and tie to wear a stained apron so that he could cook his girls dinner. And my social media star sister sat cross-legged in her favorite raggedy sweatpants and torn Wolves shirt, her face bare of makeup and hair in a messy knot on top of her head while she dipped her potatoes in ranch.
Dominic, when he met me, probably never could’ve imagined a domestic scene like this. And I couldn’t blame him. Most people imagined my life to be run by an army of hired staff, where we didn’t have to lift a finger. But the truth of our life was somewhere in the middle.
Our entire existence straddled a line between extreme wealth and privilege, while rooted in moments of complete normalcy.
And it was one of those normal family things to notice how my dad kept watching me during dinner. Lydia was showing Allie something on her phone, and I nudged Dad’s foot under the table.
“It’ll be okay, Dad.” I gave him a small smile. “He’s not what you think.”
“Just be careful,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “I promise not to go overboard. But it’s hard, kid. I’ve only got one Faith and one Lydia.”
“Thank
God for that,” Lydia interjected. “You’d be impossible if there were more of us.”
Allie laughed, and Dad’s face cracked into a smile.
It was enough to break the tension over the dinner. I took another bite of my food, my dad took a slow sip of his drink, and then shared a smile with Allie.
He set down the cup with a sigh. “Shit, I can’t wait for you two to have kids so you know exactly how impossible this is.”
“Are you ready to be a grandpa?” Lydia asked, eyebrows raised.
Dad groaned. “No. Please, forget I said that.”
“New family rule,” Allie said, raising her wineglass. “No commentary on the girls’ love lives unless they ask for it.”
Lydia and I shared an incredulous look.
Dad sighed and clinked his glass against Allie’s. “Deal.”
Lydia added hers to the mix. “Does this extend to my business collabs too? Because I got a really great offer the other day from La Perla.”
At the pained look on Dad’s face, I burst out laughing.
“One thing at a time, Lydia,” he mumbled. “One thing at a time.”
Dad set his fork down, but before he could say anything else, Allie laid her hand on his.
“I think Dominic, with good coaching and some time, will be a really great asset to the Wolves,” she said. Oh boy, Allie was in full-blown owner mode. “But your father is right. The ball is a big night, and he hasn’t … he hasn’t proved he can handle the important events without making a scene.” She tried to gentle her statement with a soft smile. “Just think really hard before you decide that you want him by your side at a moment like this.”
Attention on my every move was nothing new. It had been like that my entire life. But it wasn’t normally my family looking at me like they couldn’t anticipate what I would do or say next.
Lying to them would get me nowhere because if I wanted Dominic there, and he said yes, I’d walk through those doors without a single ounce of hesitation. They didn’t know him. In all honesty, I had to wonder who did.
Dominic
Sunshine: So … as it’s now 12:01, technically it’s the day you’re going to take me out again.
Sunshine: Can I ask what my surprise is?
With a grin, I rolled over in bed, propping my head in my hand while I pulled up her contact info. Screw this texting bullshit, I wanted to hear her voice. She picked up almost immediately.
“You’re still awake?” she asked.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
I stretched out on my back and laid the phone on my chest. That way I could pretend she was lying there with me. “I went to the weight room around six. I don’t normally work out in the evenings. Guess it amped me up too much.”
“Must’ve been quiet at that time of night.”
That was the point. I liked the idea of no one else there. Solid strategy I had going in the pre-preseason. Avoidance all the way. But I didn’t want to admit that to her just yet.
“It was,” was all I said. “Kinda nice. Other than the lack of sleep that came with it.”
“Why’d you work out so late?”
I sighed dramatically. “I wanted to spend time with someone, but she had other plans.”
“Rude.”
“I was almost asleep,” I admitted. “Then a pretty girl blew up my phone because she wants me so bad.”
Faith laughed. “Gawd, your ego is ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who agreed to go out with me,” I pointed out.
A miracle, the more I thought about it. She may not have admitted to Dominic why she had her football player rule, but Nick knew. I knew exactly why she did.
“Yesterday before you picked me up, I probably would have told you it was a momentary lapse in judgment.”
I waited, because it didn’t seem like she was done. But she stayed quiet. “And now?” I asked.
“Now,” Faith started, “I’d tell you that it was probably the best first date I’ve ever had.”
My fist raised victoriously in the air, which she couldn’t see. “You sound surprised by that.”
“I am, I guess.” She paused. “And here I am, talking to you at midnight because I didn’t really want to wait until tomorrow.”
The fact that she admitted it had me closing my eyes again. This was the kind of shit that would be the death of me. If she felt even a fraction of what I did, we were verging on dangerous territory. These were the stories that ended up with Vegas drive-up marriages after meeting two days earlier. The ones that didn’t make sense to anyone else outside of that couple.
When I didn’t answer right away, Faith made a self-conscious laughing sound. “I’m not really playing hard to get either, am I?”
“I fucking hope not,” I told her. “I didn’t mean to go quiet. This is … it’s different for me. In a good way. I don’t date a lot. Haven’t had a serious girlfriend since like, high school.”
That’s when Ivy got sick. Nothing else mattered after that.
“Oh come on,” she said. “Really?”
“Really. Broke up when I graduated and moved away to school. Then I had a lot of family shit going on when I was in college. I was too busy with football and working and school.” I paused. “Wait, am I allowed to talk about football now?”
She breathed out a soft laugh. “Yeah.”
“Good, because that would’ve made this relationship very awkward, sunshine.”
“Are we in a relationship after one date?” Faith asked. “Isn’t that … crazy?”
“Crazy for who? I don’t want to date anyone else. Do you?”
“No.” She sighed. “It’s … it’s been a long time for me too. I know I didn’t answer when you asked, but there was a guy in college.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, because I hadn’t expected her to admit it so soon. “Yeah?”
“Honestly, it was stupid how long I was with him.”
Asking her any questions about him felt as bad as a lie, so I hesitated. “I don’t think it makes you stupid though. You trust people. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Two years,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t even a good two years, when I look back on it. My family could tell he didn’t really love me, but I was young. First guy to sweep me off my feet my freshman year. He was a senior at UDub. Played Cornerback.”
I hummed. “That’s your problem. Cornerbacks are assholes.”
Faith laughed. “Are they?”
“That one is.”
“You don’t even know what he did,” she teased.
I winced, because, yeah I fucking did. Or most of it. “If he was bad enough for you to ban all football players, then he was an asshole.”
“He was,” she agreed. “I didn’t see it at first. But when he realized that being with me, knowing my family wasn’t going to give him any sort of boost into the pros, it came all the way out.” Faith groaned. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“Honestly, it wasn’t even what he did. It was how stupid I felt afterward,” she said quietly. “What kind of girl stays with a guy for two years and doesn’t see just how awful he is deep down?”
“You are the least stupid person I’ve ever met,” I told her.
Faith paused, then spoke on a rushed exhale. “When I dumped him, he got so mad that he cursed me out in front of all his housemates, then said sleeping with me was like fucking a dead fish. Exact quote.”
I bolted upright in bed. “He said what?” I yelled. “You didn’t tell—” I caught myself. She’d never told me that before, and I was … furious. “Faith, you didn’t believe him, did you?”
She groaned. “I’ve never told anyone that before. It was so embarrassing.”
“For him.” Holy hell, my hands were curled tight, and if that cornerback asswipe had been in front of me, I would’ve wrenched his nuts from his body and shoved them down hi
s throat. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. He’s a wimpy ass fucknut who should be put out of his misery for ever talking to you like that.”
Faith made a sound of mild amusement. “My goodness, I’m a little flattered by this anger on my behalf. I still should have known he was capable of something like that, though. Two years, Dominic.”
“If you didn’t see it, it’s because he wasn’t showing you who he really was.” As my heart rate slowed back to a normal rhythm, I lay back down, trying to wrap my head around that she had been willing to give me a chance after that. No wonder she never wanted to dip her toe into that particular dating pool again.
Faith was quiet for a second. “You sound so sure for a guy who hardly knows me.”
Licking my lips, I knew if I was going to tell her in this phone conversation, she’d just opened the door. But something held me back. Probably dumb-ass male fear, if I was being honest.
Faith was the first person who saw me. Beyond Walker the Wild, or whatever stupid shit the press said about me. Beyond coaches and bad teams and foolish choices fueled by grief or insecurity. It was the first time since Ivy that I’d felt this kind of ease with someone, and the most selfish part of me was what kept me from telling her.
On the heels of what she’d just admitted to me, I physically couldn’t force the words out when she wasn’t right in front of me.
No. This wasn’t the time.
“I don’t know everything,” I answered carefully. “But what I do know only makes me want to know more about you, Faith Pierson. That’s a pretty rare thing in my world.”
“Mine too,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m glad you called me, Dominic. I like hearing your voice before I go to bed.”
I groaned. “You’re gonna change the direction of this phone call real quick if you keep that up.”
She laughed. “I’ve never had phone sex before.”
Tilting my chin up, I blew out a hard breath. “Woman,” I warned.
“Maybe we ought to have a second date before we try it.”
“Can’t this count as our second date? We already had the talk about our exes.”
The Lie : a bad boy sports romance Page 14