door. I threw my bag in the silver Jag—one of my father’s toys—and floored it down the drive. After what my father revealed, I was eager to get back to the hospital, but I forced myself to make one more stop.
The drive to Tigerwood Lane seemed to take forever. My palms turned sweaty as I pulled into the driveway next to Coach Bradley’s pickup. I must have sat there for five minutes before I stepped out to face the music.
VISITING HOURS WERE MINUTES FROM being over when the automatic door finally slid open, and Vaughn stepped through. I kept my eyes on my Kindle, reading the same sentence for the thirtieth time as I listened to him cross the room. He didn’t speak.
It was the hardest thing feigning casual indifference. To pretend I hadn’t spent the entire day waiting for him to show. When that failed, I told myself that it had only been for River’s sake and that the little white lie was for mine.
When I heard what sounded like a bag hitting the floor, my head shot up. My eyes widened at the bulging duffel lying near Vaughn’s feet as he reached inside River’s crib. Was he planning to stay? Where would he sleep? His only option was the recliner, which hadn’t been designed for a night of comfortable sleep. The sofa bed had room to fit us both but not much more than that. I gulped.
I could ask him to leave, but I’d already denied Vaughn the first three months of his son’s life. Months River had been fighting alone because I’d been too selfish and weak.
“Are you okay?” I inquired, breaking the silence first. It was impossible not to notice the fatigue written all over his face. Somehow, he was still heartachingly beautiful. It was a feat I could never pull off even if I had a thousand years.
“Fine.” He moved over to the recliner, his stare intense and haunted as he watched River. “I went to see your father today.”
I sat up straight at that. “What? Why?”
Vaughn looked at me, and I pressed my hand against my belly as if it would stay the butterflies. “Why do you think? Your father might have already known since you gave River my name, but he needed to hear it from me.”
A conversation, I imagined, that did not go well. My father had been under the impression that Vaughn and I had formed an uncomplicated friendship after our many “tutoring” sessions. The wool Vaughn had pulled over my father’s eyes had been woven thick, keeping him blind for months. I could still remember the afternoon Vaughn had daringly shown up while I was home alone and refused to leave. Of course, my father had caught us together, and his timing couldn’t have been worse. He’d shown up while I’d been busy trying to drown his quarterback with a water hose.
“What’s going on here?” my father demanded as his gaze shifted from me and narrowed on his star player. Vaughn was busy trying to blink the water from his eyes. “Rees? What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to your daughter, Coach.”
Vaughn’s voice was thick and raspy, and despite the trouble I was in, I smirked. Unfortunately, it was the wrong time for me to be smug because my father’s gaze had already returned to me.
“And what is it that you came to talk to her about?”
I tensed, hearing the suspicion in my father’s tone. Vaughn’s gaze sheepishly fell to the ground as his massive shoulders slumped. My gaze narrowed at the same time he stuck his hands in his pockets. What was this? He was the perfect picture of shy. I wasn’t buying it for a second.
“I came to—I came to ask her for help, sir.”
“With what, son?”
On the contrary, it seemed that my father was eating it up.
“I was thinking about our talk this afternoon, and I realized you were right. Being the best player on the team doesn’t excuse me from making good grades.” He chose that moment to look up, his gaze pleading and humble. It was clear my gullible father was buying Vaughn’s bullshit when he laid his hand on the quarterback’s shoulder. “Your daughter is the smartest person in our school, sir. I was just hoping she’d tutor me.”
“I see. And the reason for the hose?”
My lips parted to answer, but Vaughn beat me to the punch, twisting the truth in his favor.
“It’s my fault,” he said, his gaze returning to the