Chapter 10

"Morning," my dad says through a yawn. I've been sitting at the kitchen island long enough to drink half a pot of coffee on my own.

"Morning. There's coffee," I tell him without taking my eyes off my phone.

"Must be something good on there." Dad sets his cup on the counter across from me before tapping the top of the phone in front of my face.

"Huh?"

"I said it must be something good on your phone for you to be so distracted." He points at my phone like I don't know exactly what phone he's talking about.

"No, just reading some celebrity gossip stuff. I don't know why I care anyway." I wish I didn't care what was being said about Hendrix. It shouldn't matter to me what they say or who he was seen with. We're friends and nothing more.

"Who is it about?"

Without answering, I slide the phone across the countertop so he can read for himself what this morning's gossip is about. I watch his face as he reads the story, hoping this won't be what has the team cutting ties with Hendrix.

"Hmm, interesting." He slides the phone back to me. "Do you believe it?"

"I don't know. I don't really know Hendrix that well. I thought he was kind of seeing someone, but I guess not." I don't know why I say that. We aren't together at all, and if he was with anyone else, it shouldn't matter to me. I don't want to be in a relationship, and he knows that.

"Maybe that's who he's seeing. It's not uncommon for athletes to date a model, you know." The thought alone has my gut twisting in jealousy. I hate that I care. I hate that the thought of him with someone else makes me want to cry.

"Either way, I thought he was supposed to stay out of the media and stop drawing attention." Trying to sound like I don't care, I turn my screen off before sliding my phone to the side.

"He was supposed to stop getting into trouble. No more fights and no more women in every town we stop in."

"And you think this is different?" I point at my phone, even though the picture is no longer on the screen of Hendrix with Liz Evans hanging all over him at a bar. "Seems like if he was worried, he wouldn't be at the bar."

"I thought you were against the decision to trade him when he isn't hurting anyone, as long as he stops getting into fights."

"I was. I mean, I am. I just think he should try harder to make a good impression if he really wants to be here."

"It's not like he's getting in fights, he's just dating. And I can't fault the guy for that, can I?"

"I guess not, but couldn't he have gone for someone a little lower profile?" My dad's gaze burns into me. I know what he's thinking, and I want nothing more than to move on and forget this conversation.

"Harlow, you sound a little jealous. Why don't you just ask him about it? It's hardly ever what it looks like."

"Speak of the devil." His eyebrow lifts, daring me to deny it's him who is calling, knowing I can't lie when he's seen the name on my screen. Sliding his finger over the answer button.

"Hey."

"Hey. You weren't still sleeping, were you?" His voice is quiet and unsure. Is he worried I'll be mad at him, or is he worried how I'll take the news of him dating someone? I wish my dad hadn't answered. I could have ignored the call and waited until he came home to have this conversation.

"No, I was just having my coffee. How's your trip home?" My voice shakes a little, so I close my eyes and tip my head back, hoping to find some strength.

"You saw the picture?" he asks.

"Yep."

"It's not what it looked like. And I know you've heard that excuse before, but I promise it's really not. Liz and I grew up together. We are just good friends."

"Like you and I are friends?" God, why did I say that? I'm the one who wants to stay friends and nothing more.

"Not even close, Harlow. I don't know what Liz tastes like, and I don't care to find out."

"You can't say things like that." I look up to find my dad staring at me with a raised eyebrow. How could I forget he was standing there?

"Why not?"

"Because we are friends."

"Right. Friends who know far more about each other than friends should."

"And those things are on the list of things we don't talk about."

"Fine. I won't talk about it right now, but it doesn't mean I won't think about it."

"Why did you call, again?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay if you saw the picture, and to warn you if you hadn't. Liz's husband got food poisoning an hour before she was supposed to be on the red carpet. She knew I was in town and asked if I would be her plus one. That's all it was, nothing more."

"I believe you."

"You sure?"

"Yes. My head doesn't want to, but my heart tells me that you wouldn't lie to me. You have no reason to."

"Reason or not, I would never lie to you."

"When do you get home?"

"Tomorrow, unless you tell me you're ready to stop pretending we're just friends. Then I could come home tonight." I have no doubt that if I said the word, he would be home tonight.

"I'll see you tomorrow, but promise me you'll stay out of trouble," I tell him, wishing I was strong enough to tell him that I do want him to come home tonight. Strong enough to tell him that I am ready to stop pretending and that I want to try being more than friends.

"I promise. Try not to miss me too much."

"That's easy, I don't miss you anyway," I tease.

"You can show me how much you didn't miss me when I get home. I need to call your dad. I'll text you later."

Nodding, even though I know he can't see me, I tell him goodbye before hanging up.

"See, I told you it was nothing to worry about. He's not like Ian."

"Dad, we're just friends."

"You sure about that?"

I don't answer before walking out and heading back upstairs to my room.