Bailey swallowed. She could see how her dad might have fresh concerns about that.
“Well, you certainly don’t act your age, do you?”
“Dad!”
“No, it’s only right that he should know that one doesn’t expect a thirty-year-old man to fight like in that last game.”
Bailey closed her eyes, and prayed that she and Luc could disappear. Actually…
She pushed to her feet. “I need to go.” She glanced at Luc, whose stony face had barely changed expression since the bathroom. “Would you mind taking me home?”
He peered up at her, his expression unreadable, glanced at the table, then nodded. He rose. “Please excuse me. You’re welcome to stay—”
“Oh, but we could take you, Bailey,” her mom said.
Her parents could, but right now she wanted to be as far away from them as Luc probably wished to be. “No, I need Luc.”
He dipped his chin. “As I was saying, if you’d like to stay, you’re very welcome to. Otherwise, you’re welcome to leave. Just close the door behind you.”
“Bye sis.” Rhett hugged her.
Bailey glanced at Cindy but couldn’t even manage a smile for her.
She air-kissed her parents, then after Luc made his farewells, she tugged his hand as they hurried to the elevator. As soon as they were inside, she hugged him. “I’m so sorry. That was so bad.”
“It wasn’t what I hoped for.”
The whole night hadn’t been. The 4-1 loss to Vancouver had been a little embarrassing, even if Zac Parotti had proved his A-game skills. At least that mean guy from last time had kept his mouth shut from what she could see, and there’d been no scuffles like the previous game. Her father had still found plenty to complain about, with everything from the volume of the music to the language of fans to the smell of beer.
She hugged Luc harder. “Let’s not do that again in a hurry.”
“For sure.”
She sighed. “Are you sure you don’t mind leaving them there alone?” She cringed but had to tell him. “You know that Cindy was looking through your bathroom cupboards? I think she wanted to know if you’re on drugs.”
“I know. I heard her.”
Then he’d heard everything else that had been said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Bails, it’s not your fault.”
But it felt like it was. They drove past the Coffee Haus and he soon pulled up at her apartment. She invited him upstairs, which he reluctantly agreed to. Maybe there was some way to salvage the evening. Like with more dessert.
This had been a bad idea. Playing pretend with Bailey was doing his head in. He couldn’t do it anymore. He nodded to Poppy, their ever-accommodating chaperone, who looked up from reading on the sofa as they entered the living area.
“You’re home early. And judging from those faces it didn’t go too well.”
He shot Poppy a look. Her nose wrinkled. “That bad, huh?”
“Maybe I’m tired, but yeah. It felt like a waste of time.”
Bailey’s gasp drew his attention, and he reached to hold her hand. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that, but you have to admit that was painful.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was. Come on, Bailey, just be honest for once. You said as much in the elevator.”
“But…” She glanced at Poppy.
He released her hand. “What? Do you think Poppy doesn’t know that your family has issues?”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, I know we all have issues, I’m not saying I don’t. But come on, that was crazy. My folks might not be Christians, but you can sure as heck know they wouldn’t be grilling you on being too young for me.”
He caught Poppy’s wide-eyed look and filled in the gaps. “Wayne asked me how old I was, again, and not”—he cut off Bailey—“in a way that was nice.”
Poppy winced, then winced again as Bailey glanced at her.
“What is it?” Bailey asked her.
A heavy sigh escaped Poppy. “I’ve known your folks for years, and Bailey, I’m sorry, but I know what Luc means.”
Bailey faced him, her brow knit. “What do you mean?”
He hated that hurt look on Bailey’s face, knowing he’d put it there, knowing this conversation wasn’t going to be easy. He slumped back in the overstuffed armchair. “Bails, I guess I’m just a little confused.”
