"Yeah, so smart I busted a guy's nose."
"Better than busting into a liquor store and stealing."
Dad's admission hung in the air until I closed my gaping jaw.
"I was shady, kid. A real dumb-arse. At least you were smart enough to channel your anger into sport." He pointed at me. "But I knew there'd come a time you wouldn't need to depend on tennis anymore and looks like that time has come."
"So you're not mad or disappointed?"
He shook his head. "I eventually worked through my rough stuff and I knew you'd do the same. Mad? I'm bloody proud." Dad glanced away from the screen for a moment and when he looked back at me, I'd never seen him look so uncertain. "I never wanted to be one of those parents who told kids what to do. I felt like I'd never earned the right. So I watched you fight and struggle against your anger the same way I had, but you were so much smarter than me. You were street-wise and savvy and knew how to control it." He gently fist-bumped the screen. "I've led an interesting life, filled with good and bad. But finding out I had a son, then being privileged enough to get to know you and be a father you can turn to, is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Thanks, Dad." I fist-bumped the screen right back at him, swallowing the urge to bawl like a baby. "Just so you know, Dirk's going to throw a shit-fit when he finds out I've gone after Mia, because he already warned me off her and doesn't know we're dating."
Dad's eyes widened, before a slow grin spread across his face. "You're dating Dirk's daughter?"
I nodded and Dad laughed. "Dirk's always been a smug bastard, even if he's one of the good guys." He winked. "Leave it to me, Son. I'll take care of Dirk while you go after your girl."
Your girl … I liked the sound of that.
"You wouldn't happen to have any friends in high places at the University of Denver, would you? Because I sure could do with some string-pulling like you did with Dirk."
Dad nodded. "Leave it with me. One of my producers has a son-in-law who's on the faculty at some uni in Denver. I'll follow it up."
"You're the best, Dad."
And I meant it. I may not have had a father growing up, but he'd stepped up when I needed him most. I was one lucky son of a bitch.
"Right back at you, kid." He ended our session with a salute and as I closed the laptop, I was one step closer to achieving my goal.
Finding Mia.
Convincing her I loved her.
And sticking around for the long haul.
Chapter 25
MIA
Two hours after I entered my dorm and indulged in another bout of useless weeping, Dani showed up.
She didn't knock, just barged into my room like she owned the place.
I sat up and pointed at the door. "Fuck off."
She didn't move. Not a flicker of a muscle. Not a blink. If she'd responded with her characteristic smart-ass attitude or apologized or even groveled, I would probably have physically manhandled her and thrown her out.
Instead, I stared in shock as Dani did the one thing she'd never done in front of me.
Cry.
Tears ran down her cheeks, her eerily blank expression scaring me as much as the way she was staring at me: like someone had just died.
"Here." I handed her a box of tissues and tried not to feel sorry for her.
My best friend had betrayed me in the worst possible way and if she thought a few tears would gain my forgiveness, she was wrong.
She took the box and sank onto the floor, legs tucked under her as she leaned against the desk, the way she used to do when we were kids and swapping stories on our latest crushes in my room. We'd talk for hours, only stopping to nibble on peanut butter cookies and down lemonade prepared by the nanny. We'd braid each other's hair and paint our toenails and scribble secrets into our journals, before proceeding to spill every one of those secrets.
Without a mom, Dani had been the main female influence in my life. I'd adored her, every loud, rambunctious, bossy inch of her. But no amount of precious memories could erase what she'd done today.
I didn't speak, because I knew if I started I'd end up screaming. So I sat and waited for her to dry her eyes and blow her nose, quelling the sympathy that continued to well up as I realized how awful she looked.
Dani never left the house without make-up and her hair blow-dried to sleek perfection. She wore skimpy designer gear with the sole intent to be noticed wherever she went. She never looked like this: blotchy red skin, bloodshot eyes, lank hair snagged in two pigtails and saggy grey yoga pants with a matching sloppy joe.
When she finally opened her mouth to speak, I braced myself.
"I know you want to slap me from here into oblivion and I don't blame you, but I'm really hoping you'll hear me out," she said, wringing her hands. "Please."