He scoffs. "Not me, asshole. Never." He shivers. "Ever." The look of disgust on his face makes me laugh.
We all head out of the locker room and toward the field. Just as I'm about to pass the gates, I hear her call my name. I turn around to see her running to me. "Wait!" she yells, and it makes me laugh. Of course I'd wait. I'd wait forever for her. She stops only feet away from me and bends over, trying to catch her breath.
"Where did you run from?"
"The bus," she pants.
"That's like six yards away."
She flattens her palm on my stomach and attempts to push me, but she's too damn weak and it has absolutely no effect. "I'm sorry Mr. Jockface, I don't run laps for fun."
I smile, watching, and waiting for her breathing to settle. When it does, she straightens to full height. She tries to contain her smile when she says, "I was hoping to catch you before practice."
"Well, you got me."
She chews her lip, her eyes scanning the area around us. All of my excitement from seeing her is instantly drained. Her words come back to me, the ones that tell me she's afraid of being seen with me. Afraid of what people think of her. I make a mental note to find out who the hell said what, and punch them. I've never really been the physical type, but apparently she makes me punchy.
I step forward and hesitate, only for a moment, before bravely taking her hands.
She gasps, her gaze slowly lifting to mine.
My brows rise in question. I need her to know that she's mine now, and all the petty dramas of high school, the whispers and the rumors—they can go to hell. I'll make it right.
She yanks her hands out of my hold. The feeling of rejection almost kills me. But then she rests one on my chest, the other moving my cap backwards. She settles her hand on the back of neck and pulls my face down to hers.
And then she does it again—wipes the stupid smirk off my face with her mouth.
I don't realize I've lifted her in the air until Logan shouts at us to break it up.
I set her on the ground, my eyes never leaving hers.
She laughs quietly before wrapping her arms around my waist. Her head tilts all the way back to look up at me. "So are you coming over after practice?"
"Of course."
"Good, my dad wants to meet you."
My face falls.
She laughs.
"COME ON!" Logan yells.
"See you soon," she says, walking backwards and away from me. Then I grab my hat to cover my junk and sit on a bench. "I need a minute," I shout to Logan.
Stupid boner.
***
My palms are already sweating when I knock on her door.
She opens it with a smile already in place. It should calm me, but it doesn't.
"Are you okay?"
I nod.
She eyes me warily before taking my hand and leading me to the kitchen. Her Dad's already there—sitting at the counter. He gazes up when I walk into the room.
And then he grunts.
I swear it—even if I'd walked up to the house and seen him cleaning a shotgun on the porch—that single grunt is a shit ton more intimidating.
Lucy walks me to the other side of the counter and motions for me to sit.
I do.
He grunts again.
I flinch.
"Stop it, Daddy," she hisses from next to me.
And then he chuckles, his entire body shaking with the force of it.
I don't dare laugh. Or even smile. I'm too scared to do anything.
She holds my hand under the counter. "He's joking," she says, but it makes no difference.
He comes to a stand, his huge frame shadowing us. He opens his mouth, and for a split second I envision Godzilla eating all the people of Tokyo. This is bad. This is really, really bad.
"Breathe, son," he says. And I do. I'd do anything he asks—shotgun or not. "So..." He leans his elbows on the counter and looks between Lucy and I. He let's out a sigh and scratches his beard. "I'm out of my element here. I don't really know what I should be saying." He shakes his head slowly, and then looks right at me. But it's not the same look. This one isn't made for intimidation.
We stare at each other for so long that I wonder if he's ever going to speak. "She's my little girl, Cameron." His voice breaks. Lucy holds my hand tighter. "She's my little girl and I don't know what to say right now. Kathy—Lucy's mother, she would have been great at this. This whole meeting you... setting rules thing." He smiles, but it's sad. "I just..." his words die in the air. He looks at Lucy with a cloud of failure and disappointment on his face.
I clear my throat. He focuses his gaze on me. I take a deep breath, and let it out in a whoosh. "I've been seeing Lucy almost every day since your wife passed, sir. I enjoy spending time with her and the boys. The boys have become like brothers to me. So I intend—no—I hope to still be able to do that. I have a ten o'clock curfew on weekdays, and a one a.m. curfew on weekends. But I can change that to whatever Lucy wants, or whatever you set for her. I'm not sure if you know that I help coach the twins at the little league games on the weekend. I'd like to be able to take Lucy out afterwards. I don't really know what we'd be doing; she's my first girlfriend so I guess I'd need to think of some stuff. But I can be sure to run things by you first, sir, if that's what you want. We're only fifteen. My mode of transportation is a bike, so I don't think we'd be doing much of anything. I turn sixteen in a few months and plan to get my license. When that happens, I'll come to you and we can set new ground rules. If that suits you, sir."