Before I can further entice him back to bed, and possibly take his mind off the problem still asleep in the spare room, Randy’s dad appears in the doorway.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I attempt to get up from Randy’s lap, embarrassed for no good reason other than his dad’s a parent, but Randy tightens his arm around my waist to keep me there.

Randall, Sr., hobbles over to the coffee. “I didn’t think your girlie friend would still be here.”

“Lily lives here,” Randy says coldly.

His dad stops to look over his shoulder. “Really? That’s new.”

“Not really. She moved in before the end of the season.”

“Oh yeah? Was that around the time your team fucked their chances of getting to the finals?”

Randy huffs. “We had an off season. It happens.”

“Maybe you had too many distractions.” He pours coffee into a cup and roots around in the cupboard.

I choke back “Fuck you, asshole” and go with, “The sugar’s on the counter.”

He grumbles something but dumps a couple spoonfuls in his cup and stirs.

“I should get ready for work.” I have hours before I need to be ready, but this whole situation makes me uncomfortable. I untangle myself from Randy.

“Oh, so you have a job?” Randy’s dad sips his coffee, eyeing me over the rim of his cup. “What’s it you do, Lila?”

“Her name is Lily,” Randy snaps. “And I told you what she does for a living last night.”

“Last night’s kinda fuzzy. What kinda job you have?”

“I teach skating lessons.”

“Why do you even care?” Randy asks.

“I’m making conversation, getting to know your girlfriend since she lives here and this is the first I’ve heard of it.” Randy’s dad’s smile is derisive.

“She teaches kids.” Randy follows me to the doorway. “Why don’t you get ready, and I’ll take you out for breakfast and then drop you at the arena. It’s just lessons today, right?”

“Mostly. I won’t be done until about eight.”

I don’t want to remind him that I end the day with Finlay again, as there’s nothing making Randy happy right now. Giselle won’t be back on the ice until later this week. We probably should have talked about that this weekend—Randy’s actions in the locker room before and after Finlay’s last session, how he managed the introduction—but now is definitely not the time.

“Oh. Okay.” The tic in his jaw and flare of his nostrils indicate that this news is not particularly okay, but the conversation will have to wait until we’re out of here and away from the current source of angst.

Instead of giving him more words that won’t help, I rise up on my toes and draw him down for a soft kiss. He comes willingly, but he’s tense and guarded. I leave him with his father.

Running a brush through my hair, I dab concealer under my eyes and toss my makeup bag in with my skating gear. I bring two outfits, because I’ll be there most of the day and I don’t want to stink by the time it’s over. I change my top but keep the leggings, in case Randy decides he wants to take me somewhere semi-nice.

I’m almost ready when Randy’s raised voice filters down the hall. “You don’t get to come here and say shit like that about the people I love! When I get back, I’m taking you to the hospital to have that looked at, and then I’ll drop you off at a hotel.”

“You’re gonna kick me out? Why, so you don’t have to worry about me hearing what’s going on with your little chippy when the doors are closed?” His dad’s deep, angry laugh slices through the air.

“Call Lily that again and I’m going to give you a real reason to go to the hospital.”

“Are you threatening me over a piece of ass?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

There’s a heavy thud, and a sound like pictures rattling on the walls follows. I don’t know whether to stay where I am or get in the middle of this. I’m not all that interested in managing a brawl in my hallway, but I don’t want two men who need a trip to the hospital on my hands, either.

“Randy?” I call. I give it two seconds before I open the door and step out into the hall. “Do you know where—” I pause, looking between them.

Randall, Sr., is leaning against the wall, smoothing out his shirt, and my Randy is running a hand through his hair, his jaw tight, the other hand balled into a fist.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Randy nods, tense. “You need me for something, luscious?”

I scramble for a reason. “Do you know if I left my new leotard in the laundry room? I can’t find it in here.”

He doesn’t hesitate, just nods and holds out his hand. “Let’s go look.”

I glance at his dad as we pass. His smirk isn’t cute like Randy’s; it’s malicious.

Obviously I don’t need another leotard, but there is one hanging from the drying rack in the laundry room, so I grab it and toss a baseball cap at Randy. “We should go for breakfast now.”

“Yeah.”

Randy’s dad isn’t in the hallway or the kitchen, thankfully, as we make our way to the front door. Randy hands me the keys to the truck and tells me to start it, then runs back inside. He’s gone too short a time to have committed murder, but that’s about the only assurance I have.

I wait until we’re away from the house before I ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

I shift in my seat. “Let me try that again. Randy, are you all right?”

He sighs and taps the steering wheel. If he wasn’t driving, his knee would be bouncing like a prostitute on a cock.

“I really thought I’d be able to avoid you ever meeting him.”

“I know. It doesn’t change how I feel about you now that I have, though.”

“He’s such a fucking asshole.”

“Lots of people are assholes, Randy. It sucks when they’re related to us by blood, and we can’t pretend we don’t know them.”

He kisses my knuckles, rubbing them across his cheek. “I love you. So much. I don’t want him to jeopardize this.”

“He won’t. I promise.” Words are just words, though. Unless I can reassure him in some other way, his anxiety level is going to remain high, at least until his dad disappears again.