Chapter 51

I wait until there's a gap in the conversation before clearing my throat. Opposite me, and almost in sync, Dad and Jace look up from their finished meals, questioning. "Y'all see the elephant in the room?" I ask.

"Elephant?" Jace looks around the kitchen. "Where?"

"It's a metaphor," Dad tells him, and bless his cotton socks for being the sweetest, most patient man. "For when there's something that needs to be discussed, but no one's willing to do it."

"I know," Jace says with a chuckle. "I'm just messing with her."

"Oh." Dad laughs too. "Good one."

I sigh.

Jace had a meeting with Louisiana State University earlier, and he'd asked my dad to go with him, along with his coach. I'd waited all afternoon for them to return with some good news, or at the very least, an iota of information. But they arrived with bags full of groceries, talking about video games, and immediately started on dinner. Neither has mentioned a word about it, and usually, I wouldn't ask, but my curiosity is getting the better of me.

Besides, it's January now. Christmas has come and gone, bringing in the new year, and I'm starting to worry. Most athletes of Jace's caliber commit to colleges years in advance. The schools with the best basketball programs already have their slots filled, especially ones that come with full-ride scholarships, and Jace—he's acting as if he has all the time in the world to make the biggest, most crucial decision of his life.

"LSU's a great school, right?" I edge, because if I don't say something, I doubt anyone else will. "They have an amazing athletics program. Nine current NBA players came from there…"

I'm met with silence, and so I look between the two men in my life. Jace lowers his gaze while Dad offers a reassuring smile. And I don't know what any of this means. "Did they not offer a scholarship, or…?"

Dad stands, starts clearing the table. "You have a day off school tomorrow, right?" he asks, deflecting. "What are you kids up to?"

I wait for Jace to respond, react in any way, but he just glares at the table as if it did him dirty. Biting back another sigh, I answer, "Jace decided he's had enough of me and put his hand up to work all day."

"Not true," he finally speaks up, lifting his head. "You know it's the only day I can get it done."

"Uh-huh, sure," I tease, smiling across the table at him.

"You're working at the rink all day?" Dad asks him. "I thought they didn't open until the afternoon."

"Lana's updating all the computers and points of sale," Jace replies. "So I'm setting it all up and transferring data over."

"Nerd," Dad cracks.

"Geek," Jace and I correct, then laugh together. He gets up and moves to the sink to work on the dishes just like he does whenever he eats here, and I take it as my cue to give up on the "elephant."

"I head back to work in the morning, so I won't be around," Dad says, clearing the rest of the table.

"I know." I sit back, relax in my chair. "Sammy and Jeannie are picking me up, and we're going somewhere for brunch."

"Sounds nice. You need money?"

"I got it." I check the calendar on my phone where I enter both our schedules. "You're only gone two days this time?"

"Yep. Just a quick job."

"So, you'll be back for my next game?" Jace asks him.

"I'll be there with bells on."

"Probably nix the bells, they might be distracting," Jace deadpans.

Dad looks from Jace to me. "I can't tell if he's messing with me."

I catch Jace's smile in the window's reflection, but shrug anyway. "Don't ask me."

Dad's phone rings, and he pulls it from his pocket. "It's your mother," he says, already halfway out of the kitchen to answer it. I sidle up next to Jace, pretend to be interested in his masterful dishwashing skills. He turns to me, drops a kiss on my forehead, and I push up to my toes, offer my lips. He kisses me there, again and again, all soft, gentle kisses. "Missed you," he says, kissing me once more.

"Same."

We've only gotten stronger as the weeks have passed, and I've learned not to push him on things I don't understand. It doesn't mean I don't worry when he doesn't show up at night or when he doesn't answer his phone right away. But I have to remind myself that his life—before me—hasn't changed. All I've done is add to it.

He rinses his hands now, drying them on a dishcloth before leaning against the sink filled with dirty dishes. He guides me between his legs, one hand on my hip, the other moving my hair behind my ear, and I think he's finally going to tell me what happened today. Instead, he kisses me again, a little more passionately than the previous ones, and I get lost in the moment, in the way his affection pushes away all other thoughts. All other worries.

"Your mom's working a double," Dad says, returning to the kitchen.

Jace quickly pushes me away. "Gross," he mutters, turning quickly to resume his task. "I'm just trying to do the dishes here, and your daughter won't keep her hands off me."

Dad chuckles, and I roll my eyes, shake my head.

"I'm going to head to bed," Dad tells us. "I've got an early morning. Goodnight."

"Night," Jace and I return in unison.

He's halfway out of the kitchen when I call out, "Hey, Dad?"

"Yep?"

I watch Jace's reaction, even though I'm speaking to Dad. "Can Jace stay over tonight?" Jace's eyes go wide while he shakes his head, his cheeks warming with embarrassment. I add, just to mess him with more, "He's right, I can't keep my hands off him."

Dad chuckles, then says, "Low, you practically live alone ninety percent of the time, and your boyfriend lives right next door. You think I don't know he spends nights here when I'm gone?"

Jace's eyes are practically falling out of his head now.

And Dad, unwittingly playing into my game, says, "I trust you both and just hope that you're being… safe."

"We're not having sex!" Jace exclaims.

"Jace!" I gasp.

Dad sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. "Well, good to know… I guess? Goodnight."

"Night, Dad."

Jace doesn't respond, too busy pretending to be focused on the dishes.

I whisper, "I can't believe you just told my dad that."

"He thought we were doing… it."

"Yeah, but he doesn't need to know we're not. Now he just assumes we're doing everything else."

He smirks. "We are."