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Michael nods and covers his mouth as if to conceal a burp. He waves a shaky hand at Emma. “Don’t you dare tell your mother about this.”
“Oh, I’ll tell her you weresodrunk, Dad.”
He wags his finger at her as he walks around the table, clapping my arm like he used to. I want to grab hold of him and beg him not to leave me alone with his daughter. With the fire making her cheeks glow. She’s too beautiful for him to leave us alone together.
“I’m holding you to that offer of lunch, Logan. Text me tomorrow. I might be up earlier.”
“See you tomorrow,” I say.
“Do you need any help, Dad?”
“Oh, no. Just some sleep. I’ll dream of hockey.”
I almost wince with each footstep he takes away from us. When he opens the glass door, thescrapingnoise feels like it’s tearing across my mind. When he shuts it, I look up at the dark sky.
“What are you thinking about?” Emma asks after a pause.
I feel rude sitting here, not looking at her. She’s got her chin resting on her hands. The light dances in her eyes. There’s also something unsure about her, maybe the way she opens and closes her mouth. “The game. The mistakes I made.”
“It was a close game, Logan. Only three points.”
“I could’ve prevented several of their points. I was off my game.”
“Was it… seeing Dad, maybe?” she says softly.
I lean forward. My heart is beating far too hard, way harder than during the game. The fact I’m evennoticingit means it’s pounding with absurd force. My muscles feel tight, too, pumped up like after a strength and conditioning workout.
“Why would you ask that?” I say.
She shrugs, causing her breasts to shift in that sparkling dress. “It’s the only thing that’s different. You’ve played here before.”
“I’ve had bad games here before, too.”
She raises her eyebrows, making her look playful and alert. As far as I know, she’s sober. This is just her natural magnetism. “Are you alwaysthisgrumpy when you lose?”
“Yeah,” I tell her gruffly, “but the difference is, the mistakes are usually far more complicated—a higher level than the ones I made tonight. These were basic.”
“Like what?” she asks.
I know it’s wrong, but I do it anyway. I shuffle around the fire so we’re sitting closer together. “It feels weird sitting over there, talking to you through the fire.”
She nods. It’s still civilized. I don’t know if she wants me like I want her. My manhood is getting hard, the base stiffening, the head tickling. There’s pressure in my balls. I’m hot as fuck for her. I need to step away and end this now.
“A player was rushing me. He went one way. Normally, I’d read his body language and realize it was a feint, a trick, but I fell for it twice.”
“You can’t beat yourself up about it,” she says, a callback to what I said earlier in the hotel lobby.
“Let’s forget about me. What about you? How’s college?”
I sit back, purposefully putting some distance between us. This also brings me to my full height, letting me look down at her. She’s so pretty from this angle, especially when she looks up, as if she’s on her knees with her mouth open, just for me.
“It’s going well in terms of my marks. However, my professor doesn’t like my idea for my end-of-semester project.”
“No? Why?”
She rolls her eyes playfully, and suddenly, I imagine a toddler rolling their eyes in the same way. Before, when I thought about a family, I never had a person to think of. A mother. My woman. With her, it’s so easy to imagine making a family. I don’t want to rush ahead to the future. I want to savor every moment with Emma, every breath. I also want to be there, in that new, shiny place, with the laughter of our children all around us.
“He thinks children’s stories aren’trealcreative writing. I’m changing professors next semester if I can.”
