Chapter 26: A False Start: Chapter 26

I knock on the door and wait, right as I remember my mom whispered something in Nadia’s ear last time we were here. Right before we left.

“What did my mom whisper to you last time you saw her?”

Nadia looks up at me, her pinky finger grazing against mine before she steps just a little further away from me, clearly not ready to waltz in there acting like we’re an item. “She told me I’m the only person she’s never seen you stutter around.”

My mind reels as I try to think about it. Have I tripped over a single goddamn word in her presence in the last couple of days? I can’t seem to drum up the memory. But surely, I must have. There’s just no way that—

The door swings open. Tripod yaps once at my feet and then takes off into the condo like he owns the fucking place.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Tripod! Griffy!” My mom’s arms shoot out wide as she wraps them around me. Then the volume of her squealing increases, which means she must have spotted Nadia standing behind me.

“Nadia, honey! How nice to see you again.” I swear my mom shoves me out of the way so she can hug Nadia, which makes her laugh and mouth over my mother’s shoulder before she pulls away to take us both in.

“It’s nice to see you again, too, Joan. Griffin hasn’t stopped talking about how much he loves your pour-over coffee, so we just had to swing by.”

My mom smiles wide, giving me a skeptical glance. She knows Nadia is full of shit but likes that she’s giving me a hard time. “It’s the flavor, isn’t it, darling?”

“Yeah, Mom. It’s really good,” I say right as my cap is ripped off my head and my dad’s huge mitt of a hand lands to ruffle my hair.

“Hey, Kid. And Nadia! What a pleasant surprise.” My parents exchange a look that is far too excited. I guess when you haven’t brought a girl around in thirty-five years, twice in a row seems like a big deal.

Nadia catches my eye and winks.

I swallow. She’s a huge fucking deal.

“Okay, to the living room we go. Pre-season is on Griff. You wanna stay for a game?”

I almost groan. Watching professional football since the demise of my role in it hasn’t been very high on my to-do list. I love the game. I the game. And watching it is like twisting a knife into my chest. But my dad is so genuine in his excitement. He put so many years into supporting me, showing up to my games, watching game tape with me, and so much more. It’s almost cruel to him that I made it big and now hardly even recognize the sport still exists.

“Yeah, Dad. That sounds great.”

He claps his hands together, and we all make our way down the hallway to the open living space.

“What’s your team, Nadia?” he asks as she curls up in a large armchair across from me. I scowl because she belongs in my lap, not across the room.

“Sorry?” she asks, tucking her legs underneath herself. Tripod hops up, spins a quick circle, and then presses himself against her. I sigh contentedly at the sight of the two of them there together. A dog I ran over and a girl who ran me over.

“Football? Who is your favorite football team?”

“Oh, gosh. I don’t know. Where I come from, football is what you call soccer.”

My parents heads both shoot up, like she’s said something blasphemous, and I cover my mouth with a fist to keep from laughing.

“Are you telling me you don’t like football?” My dad sounds more alarmed than offended as he pauses the game and bathes the room in awkward silence.

Nadia just rolls with the punches. “Well, I wouldn’t take it that far. I’m sure I’d like it. I just don’t really know anything about it.”

“So,” my mother pipes up, “when you met Griffin, you didn’t know who he was?”

I don’t know how I stop my body from shaking under the strain of keeping myself from laughing. Know who I was? That sounds so lame.

I think of the girl in the bathroom that night, all big dick energy and sultry smiles. Calling me out on being the prick that I often am. Nah, that girl had no fucking clue who I was—or who I’d been. Not that she’d have cared.

“I knew he was a total asshole,” Nadia deadpans.

And the dam breaks.

The laugh comes out of me in a painful sounding wheeze as I double over, just after seeing Nadia’s lips twitch and eyes flit to me.

My dad barks a loud laugh, and within moments, I hear my mom join in, too.

Nadia chuckles, watching us as she throws her hands up and adds, “What? It’s true!”

It makes me laugh harder. Only Nadia Dalca would sit here in my parents’ living room and tell them their beloved only child was a “I like you, Nadia,” my mother says from where she’s still standing at the kitchen island, shaking her head with a twinkle in her eye. “Griffin needs more people like you around him.”

“What kind of people would those be, Mom?”

She turns, pinning me with a pointed index finger. “The kind who don’t put up with your shit.”

“Ha!” Nadia points at me, looking triumphant. “See? She knows what I’m talking about.”

I grin and shake my head. The mood is so fun and light, I just want to soak it up. Nadia feels right here, too, with me and my family.

“Okay then, Nadia.” My dad moves to the other end of the couch to sit closer and starts in on her, explaining the game as it plays across the huge flatscreen again.

I sit and watch her, entranced by the sloped line of her nose, the bright twinkle in her eyes, her soft lips, and all that flaxen hair. She scoops it behind her ear and peeks across at me as she listens to my dad go on about a sport she clearly has no interest in. We exchange a look so sweet my heart twists in my chest.

“Griffin. Come help me with the coffees.” My mom’s face is completely unreadable as she beckons me forward with a folded hand.

I can barely tear my eyes off Nadia. We opened the floodgates last night, and now I’m feeling a little obsessed. Uncomfortably so, like it hurts to put space between us.

“Yeah. Of course.” I slap my knees and unfold myself, moving into the kitchen, where my mother clearly doesn’t need any help.

“What’s up, Ma?” I flatten my palms against the marble countertop and take in all the contraptions before her, still not entirely sure why she wouldn’t just grind her coffee, fill the coffeemaker, and then press a button.

“The first time was a coincidence.” She’s weighing ground coffee on an honest to God scale, not even looking at me as she talks. “But a second time? I’ve got questions, Griff.” She says it quietly enough that she can’t be heard over the announcers blaring in from the living room.

I run my tongue over my teeth. “Kinda figured you would.”

“So, she’s Stefan’s sister?”

“Yup.”

“How old is she?”

“Twenty-one.”

She doesn’t react to that little tidbit. Bless her. “It seems like you two make each other happy. I don’t know when I last heard you laugh like that.”

“Mhm.” I watch the coffee drip into the glass carafe.

She pours the boiling water out of this dainty little kettle, spilling the steaming liquid out in slow circles over the filter, not missing a fucking beat. “Have you heard from—”

“No.”

“Does she know about—”

“No,” I growl, a protective streak I didn’t even know I possessed leaping up and rearing its ugly head.

My mom turns to me, her eyes narrowing on me.

“Don’t you growl at me. You need to tell her. And you need to tidy that up. It’s way overdue. You can’t keep running from your past or it’s going to bite you in your very stubborn ass.”

“I know,” I whisper harshly—hardly better than a growl—good mood evaporating right before my eyes.

“Don’t drag your feet.” She pours the coffee into the waiting mugs.

I press my hands to the brim of my hat, squeezing the edges in as I stare down at the countertop. “I . I’m trying. I have been trying for years.”

Her eyes narrow as she glares down her nose at me. “Try harder, Griffy. And grab the other two.” She gestures with her chin at the two mugs closest to me. And then her face morphs into a smile as she scoops her two up and walks into the living room.

“So, Nadia, tell us about your plans. Last time, you said you were thinking about going back to school. What for?”

Nadia takes the coffee with a warm smile, wrapping her dainty fingers around the mug. “Well, I got into vet school.” She looks my way from beneath the thick fringe of her lashes, suddenly shy. She clears her throat. “I actually start in September. They took me as a late application.”

“That’s just great!” God, why does my dad always sound like he’s shouting? I smile into my coffee mug.

“Close by?” Mom asks.

Nadia nods. “Yeah. At Emerald Lake Veterinary College.”

“Will you come back and work where you’re at now when you graduate?” My mom is not so subtly trying to figure out if she’s sticking around, and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

“I . . . don’t know.” Nadia’s cheeks go pink, and she stares down at her coffee. “I think I might like to do some sort of rescue work, actually.” Her eyes find mine, swimming with an emotion I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’ve really enjoyed rehabilitating Cowboy, the horse that Griffin bought me. The racing industry can be hard on horses. I know some end up in less-than-ideal circumstances. I think I could do something with that . . . I don’t know . . .”

She shrugs, trailing off and looking up at the ceiling like she’s said something silly. But nothing about what she said sounds silly to me. With her soft heart, and spunky side, she’d be perfect doing something like this with horses.

“I have a bit of an inheritance. I’d like to put that money toward something good. Something helpful.”

My throat constricts as I try to swallow. How someone like her has even looked my way, someone who’s risen above her circumstances so fearlessly—I just don’t get it.

I really need to get my shit together.

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” my mother says kindly. But she doesn’t get how incredible this woman is. How pure. How strong. How inspiring.

Because never mind myself, all I want is for Nadia’s dreams to come true. And the prospect of hurting her makes me almost physically ill.

Which means I’ve got one major loose end I need to tie up. The one woman in the world I manage to find all the right words around deserves that much and more.