“Don’t be like that.” She drew back as if my words had physically hurt her. “I was going to tell them tonight, I swear. I wanted to do it the right way. You have to understand, my family’s going to have a hard time dealing with this.”
Dealing with this? Was our relationship some sort of terrible situation?
The door to the bar opened and her parents came out. When Stephanie’s gaze found me beside her daughter, she stared daggers.
“C’mon,” I said dryly, “let’s find out how your folks are coping with the bad news.”
-29-
JAY
Since it was too cold to stand around outside talking for more than a few minutes, Kayla told her family to head over to her apartment and we would meet them there.
She sat silently in the passenger seat of my Charger while I cleaned the windshield off with the wipers and a shit-ton of wiper fluid. Even after the smeary mess was gone and I could see, I sat with my hands on the steering wheel, waiting for her to say something.
“I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry.” She smoothed her palms down her legs and her fingers played with the edge of her skirt. “I wanted to tell them, but I was nervous. I really like you, and I wanted them to like you, too.”
“So, you were, what? Protecting me?”
She nodded vigorously. I rolled my eyes and put the car in gear. “Sorry, but that sounds like bullshit. If you were protecting someone, it was yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come on, Kayla. You take every chance you get to pretend I don’t go to Michigan. Part of me is beginning to wonder if you’ve even accepted it yourself.”
She straightened in her seat. “Are you kidding me right now?” She emphasized every word. “I went to a freaking Michigan game!”
Where she’d worn her OSU shirt, sulked the entire time, and thought my touchdown shouldn’t count, so it wasn’t like I had her support. “You did,” I said. “But let me ask you this. How come every time we’re together, you put your hand”—I tapped the spot of my tattoo—“here?”
Did she think I hadn’t notice how she always covered it up when I had my shirt off?
She was quiet, and when I glanced at her, she looked ashamed. I didn’t enjoy seeing her like that.
“You’re right.” Her voice was tiny. “All I can say is I’m trying. I’ve spent my whole life hating that school, and where do you think I learned it from?” She let out a deep breath. “This isn’t going to make them happy. I have no idea what they’re going to do.”
I nearly strained my eyes choking back the desire to roll them. This was just a stupid fucking rivalry. “I’m sure it’s going to be okay.”
She pressed her lips together and turned her head to stare out the window.
When Kayla unlocked her front door and let us inside, I took the secondhand reject chair positioned across from the couch, leaving that option for the McCarthy family. Cooper dropped down and played on his phone, indifferent to it all.
Bob and Stephanie were a whole different story. They sat on the edge of the couch, stiff and glaring at their daughter like she’d done something awful. Kayla stood halfway between us, trying to be Switzerland.
“How the hell did this happen?” her mother demanded.
Kayla’s mouth opened, then shut, like she wasn’t sure what to say, so I answered for her. “We met at Marcy’s wedding.”
The apartment door swung open without warning, and Chuck, still in his marching band uniform, entered. He unsnapped his collar as he gave a friendly smile to the McCarthys, but he must have sensed the tension in the room. His smile faded and everything went quiet as a tomb. When he saw me sitting in the chair, the thought running through his head was obvious. Uh, oh.
“Is this the intervention?” Chuck joked. “I tried to get her counseling, but the doctor said she’s too far gone.”
I gave him points for trying to lighten the mood, but it had no effect.
Stephanie turned to her husband. “Why aren’t you more upset? You need me to remind you about the touchdown that cost us The Game last year? Because it’s dating our daughter.”
I wanted to chuckle, but limited myself to a cocky smile as I remembered that moment. My fourth quarter touchdown had tied the game up, and the extra point afterward got us the W. When I’d crossed into the end zone, I thought there was going to be mass suicide in the Buckeye stands.
Kayla shot me a nasty look, like she knew what I was thinking about, and it wiped the smile from my face. Too soon.
“Kayla,” her mother continued. “There have to be a thousand available boys here at school who are better.”
“FYI, it’s sitting right here,” I said, annoyed.