She gives me a big grin. “I’d say, ‘Bless your heart.’”
We both chuckle. “Thanks for joining me today, Paige. This is Roxy Santos withBronco Nation. Back to you in the station.”
When I stop the camera, she squeals. “That was so fun! You’re such a cool cucumber under pressure, Roxy.”
“That’s because I rehearsed those questions fifteen thousand times before I got here.” I grab the camera and the bag. “Come on. I need to record your routine again, but this time close up.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m kneeling near the pyramid, but not so close that I get kicked in the face, as I record the routine. This year’s cheer squad is tight, and while I miss this like crazy, I wouldn’t give up Marley for the world.
And that’s the biggest revelation. Every sacrifice I’ve made in the last year, every tear, every sleepless night has been worth it because of my daughter.
I wouldn’t give her up for anything. Not even cheer.
When the routine comes to an end, Paige flips off the pyramid and lands in the arms of her bases before she sticks the landing with a triumphant look on her face.
It feels good to know I played a small part in helping her achieve her goal.
I spend much of the next day editing the cheer footage. Afterward, as I drive home from campus, the football game is letting out. It took everything in me not to watch the Broncos play this afternoon, but I need some space to process what happened this week.
“Hope you won, Dad,” I say out loud to my empty car. “Billy, I hope you got some interceptions, you asshole.”
I wipe the tear that escapes. Even though I’m still irate with him, I want him to achieve his dreams.
Because maybe we just weren’t meant to be.
55
BILLY
I’m aboutto slink out of our post-game meeting when Coach shouts my name.
I had a crappy game. Good thing Nick kicked ass out there, because I let Oklahoma snag a touchdown when I misread a play. The only bright side is that Coach took Ezra out for the second half of the game, and he’s over there all pissed off.
Frankly, I would have done the same thing. Ezra hasn’t been the same since that injury.
I run over to Coach and prepare myself for an ass-kicking. Instead, he grabs my shoulder. “What was up with you today? Why were you all thumbs and two left feet?”
“Sorry, Coach.” I’ve had two sleepless nights on the couch at the football house while I’ve debated what to do. I’ve been fucking miserable. The thought that my girl thinks I’d do her dirty tears me up. I haven’t been sleeping. Barely been eating. And as Coach so aptly put it, I was totally ham-handed out there on the field today.
“Does this have anything to do with why my daughter and Marley are staying at my house? Why Roxy has been crying her eyes out until she falls asleep?”
Fuck. She’s been crying?
“We broke up, sir.” I mean, I guess that’s what she means by telling me to get my shit out of her apartment. Cam was gonna help me move my stuff tomorrow night, but I was hoping Roxy and I could talk first. See if I could get her to understand. I’ve stopped by her apartment twice, but she’s never around.
“I gathered that based on the fact that you look like hell. But why? I thought you were crazy about her.”
“I am crazy about her.But—”
“No buts. You either love her or you don’t, and if you do, you need to fix whatever it is you broke.”
I give him a look. “I thought you didn’t like me dating your daughter, sir.”
He crosses his arms. “I can admit when I’m wrong. I think you’ve helped her get through a very difficult time when most men wouldn’t bother. That says a lot about you.”
“She thinks I cheated.” His eyes go glacial, and I hold up my hands. “I didn’t. I would never. Ever. I swear on football and both my nuts.”
After a second, he chuckles. “Son, I’m not going to say she’s hormonal, because she’d strangle me, but I will say that her body is going through the most change she’s ever experienced as an adult. So if I could give you any advice, it’s that she needs a lot of reassurance that you still love her.”
