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“Does she know this? That you want to date her?”
“Yes, sir, she does.”
“And what does Queenie have to say about that?”
“She’s in agreement, if I’m able to convince you to allow it. She was the one who insisted we remain platonic, because she didn’t want to disappoint you. What happened this evening was my fault. I had intended to speak with you first, but—”
He raises a hand to stop me, which is good, because I’m not sure there’s a good way to complete that statement. “You can stop with the ‘sir’ and just call me Jake.”
“Of course, Jake. I apologize.”
“I wish this whole nice-guy thing you have going on was a load of bullshit.”
“I’m sorry?” I don’t understand why he would want his daughter to date someone who wasn’t good to her or nice.
“It would be easier to trade your ass for this if I didn’t like you, Kingston.” He sighs and rubs his chin. “You realize she’s a handful.” I don’t think he means it in a negative way—more of a warning not to get involved on a whim.
“Nothing I can’t handle, sir . . . I mean Jake. And I happen to like that about her.”
He gives me the side-eye. “Yeah, your face tells me that.”
This conversation would be a lot easier if I weren’t covered in hives. “That’s not how I meant it—”
He waves the comment away with a roll of his eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” He drains the rest of his glass. “You have my permission to date Queenie.”
“I do?” I’m surprised, considering the state I’m in and how unimpressed Jake is with me at the moment.
“Yeah. I’m not sure there’s a point in saying no anyway.” He runs a hand through his hair. “If there was anyone on the team I’d be okay with Queenie dating, it’s you.”
“Thank you, Jake. I promise to treat her with the care and respect she deserves.”
He pins me with a hard look. “You do not share a room when we’re at away games.”
“Of course not.” Especially if her room adjoins his. I appreciate that Queenie is expressive in bed, and I would prefer not to stifle that.
“And this shit better not happen again.” He motions to my face.
“I understand. I’m sorry. It was purely by accident. I haven’t had an allergic reaction in a long time.”
He heaves a sigh. “It’s late. You have an early morning.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for understanding.” I head for the door.
“Go to bed, King. And stay out of my daughter’s tonight.”
“I wouldn’t—”
He holds up a hand. “Remember that when she’s trying to persuade you otherwise.”
“I told you, sir, I can hold my own.”
“That’s what you think. Now get out of here and get some sleep.”
I leave Jake’s room and cross the hall to mine and Bishop’s. I’m not looking forward to explaining this whole situation to him, mostly because I expect that he’ll derive an unprecedented amount of joy from the awkwardness.
I have my key card in my hand when the door across the hall opens and Queenie pokes her head out. “Psst.”
I glance at her father’s closed door and whisper, “Hey.”
“What was that about?” She tips her head in the direction of her dad’s door, which is when it opens and Jake appears.
“Don’t make me tape your doors closed like I did when I chaperoned that high school trip to Washington.”
“Oh my God, Dad. I’m checking to see if King is okay.”
“King is fine.”
“I’m fine.” Jake and I echo each other.
“Can we have a minute, please?” She gives Jake a look.
I stay silent because I don’t want to rock the boat.
He sighs. “One minute. King needs his rest, and I need to not have a fucking heart attack tonight.” He disappears back into his room, the door closing heavily behind him.
Keeping her door propped open with her foot, Queenie steps out into the hall, grabs the front of my shirt, and yanks me toward her room.
“What’re you doing?”
“This isn’t high school. We’re not talking in the hall.” She pulls me into her room and closes the door. “Your face looks a little better.”
“The medic gave me a shot of antihistamine. It should be mostly gone tomorrow.”
“Okay. That’s good. What happened in there?” She inclines her head toward the wall abutting her dad’s room.
“I asked for permission to date you.”
“You did?” She seems surprised. “What did he say?”
“He wasn’t happy about the situation he found us in, but he seems okay with it.”
“That’s because he thinks you’re a squeaky clean Boy Scout.” She smiles coyly. “He doesn’t realize that you like to destroy panties and tongue fuck my pussy.”
“Shh! What if he’s listening?”
“He should know better.” She runs a hand down my chest. “How’s everything south of the navel?”
“I have cream I need to put on all the affected areas after I shower.”
