It was worth all of the teasing I got the last half of the game. I swear, I thought Ryan would never let up. But it didn’t matter. I meant what I said to Chloe. I liked her, and I didn’t care what others thought.
And now she stood in front of me leaning against the fence, looking like an angel in her pastel tank top and pants so tight they left nothing to the imagination. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and the strands danced behind her head in the slight breeze, almost creating a halo-like effect. I wanted to kiss her so bad, but I knew I should wait. She’d only just admitted she liked me. I didn’t want to push my luck. It seemed I was always screwing up when it came to her, and I wasn’t sure I could afford another one. There were only so many grand gestures I could come up with.
“My parents are expecting me home soon,” she said, and my heart sagged.
But I brushed it off, waving my hand in understanding. “I get it. I’ve got a strict Mom too.”
“Mom, huh? That’s funny. It’s opposite for me. My mom’s pretty lax, but my dad’s super strict.”
Her words hit their mark. I bit my lip. “Yeah, well, my dad’s not around so…” Reaching up, I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. Why had I said anything? It was just an innocent comment. Something she said to fill the silence. Not so I could pop off with something intimate and personal, ruining the whole moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said with so much sincerity it almost broke me.
No way was I going down that road tonight. No, tonight was about wowing her with my charm. Tonight was about fun. “It’s okay. I know something that will make me feel better.”
“You do?” She cocked an eyebrow, and damn if I didn’t think it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen.
Reaching forward, I curled my fingers in the chain links of the fence right next to her ear. Then I bent forward until my lips almost touched her cheek. She shivered, and it gave me a sense of satisfaction. I held her gaze. “Go out with me.”
“When?” A puff of air met my face.
“Tomorrow night.”
“What time?” Her eyes sparkled.
“I’ll pick you up at six.” I inhaled her sweet scent, my insides having a freaking party. I wanted nothing more than to lean forward a bit more and satisfy my curiosity by pressing my lips to her soft skin. But I held off, showing restraint.
“It’s a date.”
I shoved off the fence. “It sure is.”
When I got home, the house was dark. Silence wove around me as I stepped inside. The only light came from the kitchen. I assumed Mom had left it on when she went to bed, until I heard noise from inside – the rattle of a cup, the pull of a drawer. Inching forward, I poked my head inside the kitchen doorway. It was dimly lit, only the light from the stove illuminating the room. James’ back was to me, his elbow moving as if he was stirring something.
I walked into the room. James must have heard my footsteps because his head jerked, his neck craning.
“Where were you tonight?” I asked, my tone hard.
James spun around, leaning back against the counter. He held a mug in his hand. Steam rose from it. “Sorry I missed your game, bud.”
I winced. Seriously, I hated when he called me ‘bud.’ Did he think I was ten or something?
“I had a long day at work, so I stayed home,” he continued. “Needed some quiet time.”
“Long day at work, huh?” I glared. “You’ve been having a lot of those lately.”
“Is there something you want to ask me?” He threw me a challenging look.
I knew I had to tread lightly. Mom would kill me if I got into fight with my new stepdad, so for her sake I’d keep it civil. “Just find it odd, that’s all. It seems that the numbers will still be there to calculate in the morning.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” James replied dryly, running his free hand through his salt and pepper hair.
“To me it’s pretty simple, actually.”
“It is?” He raised his brows in bemusement.
“Yep. When I see my mom sitting alone every night on the couch it becomes pretty damn simple to me.”
“Holden,” his voice had softened. Gone was the amused expression, replaced by one of grave concern. “I would never do anything to hurt your mom. I’m not--”
I held up my hand, not wanting to hear him say the words “like your dad.” I knew he wasn’t like my dad, but I also didn’t want him waltzing in here acting like he was so much better than him either. I knew it didn’t make sense. Most of the time I hated my dad, but deep down I knew I loved him. And it’s not like it had always been bad. We’d had good times. At one point Mom and Dad were happy. Plus, Dad’s the reason I love football. I knew the way I felt about my dad was messed up, but I guess that was the curse of having parents. Even when you hated them, you loved them. Even when you wanted not to care, you did.