“Jake is not Eric. And our relationship is nothing like my relationship with Eric was. I was fifteen when we started dating. And I was sixteen when—”
“We’re not going through it again!” he booms. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you. But you’re not hearing me.” I rake my fingers through my hair, agitation rising inside me. “Jake is nothing like Eric. He’s smart, he’s disciplined, he doesn’t party. I swear, this guy is a generational talent, Dad. People will be talking about his career for decades to come. And he’s a good guy. He was with me the night I went to help Eric—”
“So that’s the friend you spent the night with?” Dad’s lips tighten. “And I suppose he’s the one you keep going to Boston to see? Is this why the HockeyNet internship fell through? Because your mind’s been so wrapped up in this guy that you didn’t properly prepare for your interviews?” He laughs humorlessly. “And you’re telling me this is nothing like it was with Eric?”
My jaw drops. “Is that a joke? I absolutely prepared for those interviews. I didn’t get the job because the man in charge thinks my sports knowledge is cute.” Anger heats my throat. “And yes, I stayed at Jake’s place that night, and I’m not apologizing for that.”
“Fine, then maybe you should go and spend a few more nights there,” Dad snaps back.
A second ticks by. Two. Three.
“Are you kicking me out?” I ask in amazement.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Actually, yes. If you’re determined to revert back to this bullshit high school behavior, where you stay out all night and throw your life away for another hockey player—”
“I’m not throwing my life away. Not only are you overreacting, but you’re being ridiculously irrational right now.”
“Irrational? You have no idea what it’s like to almost lose your child,” he spits out. “You have no idea, Brenna. And forgive me if I’m not feeling optimistic about this relationship with Connelly. You have a track record of making terrible decisions.”
I feel like I’ve been struck. My heart beats double time as I try to collect my thoughts. As I try to put into words why his accusations are such a slap in the face.
“Despite what you think, I’ve actually been making solid decisions,” I say bitterly. “I turned a miserable high school transcript around by going to community college, where I excelled. So much so that I was able to get into an Ivy League university, without you pulling strings, without anyone else’s help. How’s that for terrible decisions? But no, you refuse to acknowledge that I’ve grown up or matured. You want to keep thinking of me as the selfish teenager who lost her head over a guy? Then fine, keeping doing that.” I stand up on stiff legs. “I’ll get my stuff and leave.”
32
Jake
“Thank you for letting me stay here.” Gratitude shines in Brenna’s eyes as she drops her bag on the floor near my bed.
“No problem.” I wrap my arms around her from behind and kiss the side of her neck. “I cleared out a drawer for you. I wasn’t sure how long you’re staying.”
“You’re giving me a drawer?”
I release her, my arms awkwardly falling to my sides. I’ve never actually spent more than one night with a girl, so I’m not entirely sure of the etiquette. Was the drawer too much?
But Brenna’s surprise is quickly replaced with approval. “Aw Jakey, you’re the bestest.” She winks at me.
Drawer for the win.
I clasp my hands on her waist and lean down to kiss her. She kisses me back, but it’s only a peck. Then she kneels to unzip her black carry-on. “So what kind of destruction did Pedersen’s bombshell cause on your end? Any of your boys mad at you?”
“Not really. I mean, McCarthy wasn’t thrilled when he found out I’ve been seeing you. He’s full-on dating that Katherine girl now, but he still called me a douche.” I let out a rueful breath. “I was a bossy prick when I ended your hookup. And then to get together with you right afterward? I don’t blame him for being pissed.”
“No, you were right to do it. He was starting to really like me, and I knew there was no chance of it ever going anywhere. You called him a puppy once, remember? I can’t be with a puppy.”
“That’s right. You need the stallion.”
Brenna snorts. “What is it with you guys thinking you’re either a puppy or a stallion? How is this the metric by which we’re measuring masculinity?”
“It’s not. It’s the metric by which we’re measuring my dick.” I cup my package and wiggle my tongue at her.
“Ugh. You’re the worst.” Grinning, she opens her assigned drawer and starts placing items of clothing into it, arranged in neat piles.
“You’re already unpacking?”
“Yeah. You gave me a drawer. Why would I leave my stuff in my suitcase?”