Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) - Tijan Page 0,2

head and sauntered away, holding two fingers up over her shoulder. “Deuces, Kade. I never thought I’d be saying this, but I really do hope your next year is a great one.” She paused, glancing back, and her voice came out softly, “I hope you fall in love. You can feel what the rest of us feel.”

She left after that, and I shook my head, before pulling the girl against me. That was never going to happen, and then I lowered my head, my lips finding hers, and I stopped thinking altogether.

BEEEEP YOURSELF

TAYLOR

“Broozer! You’re hilarious. Why didn’t I know this?”

Listening from around the corner, my nails sank farther into my palms. That woman had been saying that same phrase over and over for the last thirty minutes. Even though I was in college, I felt some middle-school tendencies rearing up. I wanted to get up from my perch on the stairs, march in there, and do something I’d regret later.

“Broozer!” She laughed, and her hand pounded the table. “You are too funny.”

Okay. That was it. I stood up, but the gods shined their favor on me. My friend’s headlights lit up the house.

“Bruce,” a male voice from the dining room said, “I think someone just pulled up in your driveway.”

“Oh.” A chair scraped over the floor. “That must be Taylor or her friends. I didn’t know she was here.”

That wasn’t surprising. There was a lot he seemed not to know anymore.

“Taylor?”

I was at the door and reaching for the door handle when he came around the corner. I paused and glanced back. I loved my dad. I had moved back almost nine months ago to be here with him, but we were roommates. The father/daughter dynamic wasn’t there anymore. It hadn’t been since my mother died and we dealt with her loss in two different ways. He became engrossed in his job as one of the coaches for Cain University among some other activities. If he wasn’t thinking about football, he was watching tapes, he was planning plays, he was on the phone with a player, he was on the phone with a coach, he was—the list went on and on. He’d been promoted to defensive coordinator last spring, and I knew it was a product of all his extra work.

I didn’t recognize this man who let some woman call him Broozer, like that was his name. He was known as Coach Broozer, but his name was Hank. Hank Bruce. Coach Broozer had always been his alter ego. Wild. Yelling. Passionate. That was Broozer. Hank was quiet, kind, loving to my mother. Hank was my father. But Coach Broozer stood in front of me now, looking like he regretted coming out to check because now he actually had to talk to me.

“Is that a date in there?”

His eyebrows pinched together, and the corners of his mouth strained. I looked away from his eyes. He kept his body trim, his dark brown hair didn’t have any graying strands, and he had a strong jawline below clear blue eyes. He was dressed nice: a pastel blue polo over trendy jeans. He and Mom had me when they were eighteen, and he was only thirty-eight. I knew that made him prime dating material, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

He glanced over his shoulder, giving the dining room a wary look before he lifted a shoulder. He still held his cloth napkin, and his hand closed a fist around it. “I don’t know, to be truthful. Mike and Evelyn brought a friend over, but it’s just a night with friends for me.”

Beep! Beep!

“Is that Jason and Claire?” My dad gestured to the car outside.

I nodded. “Yeah. Hold on.”

Opening the door, I stuck my head out. Claire waved from the driver’s seat, smiling widely at me while Jason leaned his head out his window. He made an impatient motion.

“Two seconds,” I yelled.

His eyes rolled. Claire gave me a thumbs-up.

“I should go,” I told my dad. “We’re going to a party.”

“Taylor Laurelin Bruce!” Jason yelled from outside. “Get your cute patootie out here. We’ve got parties to attend and beverages to regurgitate. Let’s get a move on, son.”

My dad chuckled, waving me off. “Go ahead. Have fun. We can catch up later.” He chuckled, then said, “Oh—”

I stepped back and waited.

“Did you need a ride to campus tomorrow? I’ll be leaving around six. Early practice.”

I cringed. “I think I’ll take my own car and deal with the parking lots. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Anytime. I’m