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“No.” He pauses. “Actually, there's something I should've said a while ago.”

Oh.

I follow him a little farther down the hallway, away from the people coming and going.

Dad stops near a framed photograph of the team and turns to face me. “I owe you an apology.”

I blink.

Well. That's not what I was expecting.

Dad sighs and rubs a hand over his jaw. “I was angry when I found out about you and Larkin. I was angry that I found out from the internet, and I was angry that he'd been involved with my daughter without telling me.”

“I know.”

“And I was worried about what it could mean for him. For the team. For you.”

I fold my arms. “Dad—”

“Let me finish.”

I close my mouth.

He takes a breath. “Those concerns weren't made up. There are complications when a player is dating the coach's daughter, and I can't pretend otherwise.”

“I know that too.”

“But I shouldn't have made you feel responsible for his entire future.”

My throat tightens.

Dad looks uncomfortable. “I was trying to protect you,” he says. “Both of you, actually. But I went about it the wrong way.”

I swallow. “You made me think loving him could ruin his life.”

His expression changes. “I know.”

“And I believed you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I hurt him really badly, Dad.”

Dad's jaw tightens. “I heard.”

I look up sharply. “From who?”

“Larkin.”

My mouth falls open. “You talked to Wyatt?”

“He came to see me a few days after you two got back together.”

Oh, God.

“I had no idea. What did he say?”

Dad studies me for a moment. “He told me he understood why I was concerned. He said he knew dating you could complicate things, and he wasn't asking for special treatment.”