Page 101 of The Game
“I’d like that.”
The relief of meeting a parent shouldn’t be this huge, but I want her dad to know she has someone in her corner.
“I think he already knows about us,” she says over the brim of her mug, making me curious.
“How so?”
When I met him after our game, I was careful, or at least I thought I was, but anyone who’s seen me around Sarah probably knows just how bad I have it for her.
“When I went home a few weeks ago, he made a comment about you, and I took the bait, defended you, and he just looked all smug, setting me up to test his theory that there was something between us.”
That was the weekend after the dreaded evening in her dorm, when I thought I might have lost her.
“And what did you tell him?” I ask, expecting her to have denied anything between us.
“I didn’t deny it, wanting to see his reaction. I expected the whole “stay away from the hockey player” lecture I’ve gotten before, but he shrugged his shoulders and told me you reminded him of himself and how he looked at my mom.” She almost whispers the last part, letting her vulnerability show.
Probably afraid her dad is exaggerating what he saw between us.
The same look I saw when Braden mentioned marriage yesterday.
We might not be there just yet, but I see her as my wife in the future.
“Well, I don’t know how your dad looked at your mom, but I can confirm I have it bad for you, Sarah,” I tell her sincerely, wanting to wipe away any doubt in her mind.
She lets out a small breath, smiling at me.
“Yeah, I have it pretty bad for you, too.”
~
On Tuesday, we’re sitting in my car, driving towards her hometown of Tinley Park.
Sarah has been glowing the whole day, excited to spend some time with her dad.
I may be a little nervous, knowing I want to give a good impression.
Last time, he met me as the captain of the team his daughter is working for.
Now, he’ll meet me as her boyfriend.
“So, what exactly are you going to say to him?” She asks me, looking over from the passenger seat.
“That I’m your boyfriend, and plan on taking care of you,” I tell her simply.
“I’m your girlfriend?”
I give her a look.
Is she serious?
“Of course you are, Sarah. Are you messing with me?” I ask her, not knowing whether she’s serious.
“You’ve never really asked me to be your girlfriend,” she says with a teasing tone.
She knows just as well as I that I use every opportunity I have to remind her just how mine she is; it’s one of her favourite things in bed, but I’m happy to remind my woman again.
“I’m sorry, baby, I thought the constant fucking, the fact that I’m crazy about you, and that you practically live at my place, were obvious reasons why you’re my girlfriend. Sarah, will you please do me the honour of being my girlfriend?” I ask her, and she sniggers.
