Sidelined Love: A Hockey Romance (The Crestwood University Series Book 1)

I push open the heavy oak door of the Riverstone Grill in a hurry; its hinges letting out a small groan. The smell of sizzling steaks and wood smoke hits me, taking me back to the meals I’ve enjoyed here with Jade on occasion. I walk up to the podium and wait for the hostess to give me a smile as a greeting.

“Table for Reed,” I tell the hostess. She nods, picks up a menu, and gestures for me to follow her. We make our way through the restaurant, and I spot my father sitting at a table by the window, lost in thought.

Even from a distance, I can see the kindness in his soft hazel eyes, eyes that mirror my own, along with his salt-and-pepper hair that is swept off his face. He’s dressed in his usual button-down shirt and dark jeans, a style he’s worn for as long as I can remember. As if he senses someone is watching him, he looks over at me when I’m a few feet away from him.

“Hailey!” Dad’s face splits into a grin as wide as the river that gave this restaurant its name. He stands, his chair scraping lightly against the hardwood floor, and sweeps me up in one of those hugs that manages to be both awkward and heartwarming at the same time.

“Hey, Dad.” I return his smile with a small one of my own, settling into the chair across from him. “Sorry I’m late. I had to submit an assignment before coming here.”

“It’s not a problem,” he says. “How’s everything? School? Friends?”

“School’s good. Professors are still assigning homework like it’s going out of fashion, hence my tardiness,” I reply, picking up the leather-bound menu and scanning it without really seeing the words. “Friends are… friends. Can’t complain.”

He nods knowingly. “Ah, the joys of college. Makes you appreciate the weekends even more, doesn’t it?” He takes a sip from the glass of water on the table, but his gaze remains on me.

“Yeah, weekends are sacred. Gives me an opportunity to catch up and sleep.”

We’re approached by a waitress with a warm smile and a tablet. “Hello and welcome to Riverstone Grill. Can I start you off with something to drink?” she asks.

“I’ll have a water.” I pause for a moment and then add, “Actually, add a slice of lemon, please.”

“Make that two,” Dad says.

“Excellent. And do you need a little more time to decide what you would like to eat?” After Dad and I nod, the hostess replies, “Great. I’ll get you those waters and I’ll be right back.”

The waitress leaves and we’re left to think about what we would like to eat. Once I decide what I want, I look at Dad as he scans his menu. I can’t help but notice Dad has shadows under his eyes that weren’t there the last time I saw him.

“Everything okay with you, Dad? You look tired.” The words slip out before I can stop them. I know it’s a result of me being partially concerned and feeling guilty for not checking in on him more.

He shakes his head before he says, “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I want to press further because there’s something behind his casual dismissal that feels off. But we’re here to catch up and enjoy each other’s company, not dwell on anything too serious. At least not yet.

I decide to let it slide for the moment and change topics. “So, have you been to any interesting places lately? Any new hiking trails?”

Dad’s eyes light up, the tiredness momentarily forgotten. Hiking is something we tend to do together, more so before I left for college. “Actually, yes. I discovered this beautiful trail about an hour away from here. Not many people know about it, so there wasn’t too much foot traffic when I was there. The trail is a rather easy hike as well.”

“That sounds great. Maybe I could join you next time?”

“I’d like that,” he replies with a nod and then adds with a raise of his brow, “Would give us a chance to spend some more quality time together.”

I playfully roll my eyes, but the guilt is still there. “You’re hilarious.”

He chuckles just before he sobers up and pats my hand. “On a serious note, I feel like I rarely hear from you, kiddo. I’m trying to give you space as you continue to grow and become your own woman, but I miss you.”

Our conversation is interrupted by our waitress returning. She sets down the glasses with a gentle clink, the lemon slices bobbing slightly as she does so. She also brings some warm rolls I can’t wait to dig into.

“Here you are,” she says warmly. “Are we ready to order or do we need a few more minutes?”

I glance at Dad, and he gives me a nod, indicating he’s ready to place his order. “I think we’re ready,” I reply, closing the menu. “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad, please.”

“And for you, sir?” The waitress turns to my father.

“I’ll go with the rib eye steak, medium-rare, and the baked potato on the side. Oh, and could you bring some extra sour cream?”

I’m surprised Dad ordered it given the price it is listed at. We usually do our best to not spend too much money, especially with me in college. I don’t say a word, but the look on my face must have given me away because Dad turns his attention to me.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? This is my treat by the way.”

“Yes. I’ll keep the grilled chicken salad,” I say as I hand over my menu and watch my father do the same.

“Of course. I’ll get those orders in for you right away.” The waitress collects our menus and walks away.

Silence falls between us as I take a sip of water and take a bite from one of the rolls. Dad is studying me again, his expression thoughtful, but he doesn’t say a word.

Once I’m done chewing, I speak first. “Back to our conversation. I know I haven’t been talking to you as much as I should be, and I promise to be better.”

“Thanks, but also don’t feel as if I’m pressuring you to call your old man every day. I would just like to hear from you more to make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course. That makes complete and total sense.”

A moment of silence passes between us, the weight of our words lingering in the air between us. It’s not an uncomfortable quiet, but I’m grateful when Dad’s light laugh breaks it.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about getting a dog,” he says.

“Wait, what? A dog? Since when are you a dog person?” I ask. Surprise is an understatement because I’ve never heard Dad mention anything about dogs.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I thought it might be nice to have some company around the house. Plus, it would give me an excuse to get outside more, even when I don’t feel like hiking.”

“Any particular breed in mind?”

“Well,” he replies as he lightly taps a finger on the table. “I’ve been looking at some rescue sites. I don’t know which breed or age for that matter, but I figured I’d know the right one when I see it. A lot of older dogs need loving homes, and I’ve been thinking why not?”

“That’s great, Dad.” My heart swells at the thought of him opening his home and heart to a furry friend. “If you want me to come with you when you go and visit a shelter, I can do that too.”

His face lights up in almost the same way it had when I arrived. “That’d be wonderful,” he replies.

We continue talking about potential dog names and what adjustments he might need to make to our home to make a dog the most comfortable. Then our conversation shifts through other lighthearted topics and shared memories, and I start to feel more connected to him than I have in a while.

Our waitress returns and places our dishes before us. We eat mostly in silence, and once again, it’s a comfortable one. The food is absolutely delicious, and I can tell by the way Dad is licking his lips, he’s thinking the same.

As we finish dinner, Dad looks over at me and asks, “Do you want something for dessert as well?”

I shake my head immediately. There is no way I can fit another ounce of food into my body right now. With a heavy breath, I lean back in my chair, patting my full stomach. Dad smiles at my exaggerated gesture and takes a final sip of his water. Once he places the glass down, he looks back at me and every hair on my body stands at attention because of the look on his face.

“Hailey, there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

“What’s up?” I ask quietly.

His hands fold together on the table as he leans forward slightly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he starts and clears his throat before he continues. “About us, about our family… and where we are in life. This kind of goes hand in hand with my thinking about getting a dog, but it’s not quite the same.”

I nod encouragingly, thankful that this doesn’t sound like he’s sick or anything like that. However, I’m still unsure of what he’s about to say.

“And I’ve realized that, well, it’s been quite some time since your mother left.” He stops to gather his thoughts. “I’ve spent these years focused on you and work, and I have no regrets. Rebuilding our lives when it was just you and me was hard, but now, it’s something I would never change.”

I can feel a knot forming in my stomach. Dad rarely, if ever, talks about Mom leaving. It’s like an unspoken agreement between us—a chapter that has already been written in a book that is shut and put on a shelf to collect dust.

“But lately,” he goes on, his eyes now holding mine, “I think it might be time for me to start considering the idea of dating again.”

The words hang in the air between us. I blink several times as I process them, and I’m not completely sure why it’s so hard for the words to sink in. My father, the man who seemed perpetually content with his routine, is thinking about dating again.

Dating.

And here I am, thinking the strangest thing he’s going to say tonight is about wanting a dog.

The concept is so strange when applied to him that it takes me a moment to find my voice.

“Dating?” I repeat as if I don’t understand him.

He nods slowly. “Yes, dating.”

“It’s been years, Dad. You deserve happiness… someone to share your life with.” But even as I say those words, there’s something in the back of my mind that speaks up. It’s concerned about change and the fear that comes along with it.

“Sweetheart, I haven’t made a decision yet. And this doesn’t change anything between us,” he reassures me.

I manage a small smile despite the swirl of emotions within me. “I know it doesn’t,” I reply softly. “And I want you to be happy.”

The silence that follows is not the same comfortable one we had while eating. Or maybe I’m assuming it’s not because I’m not sure what to think.

Dad reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. “I wanted you to know first before I made any steps. I don’t want to blindside you with any of this.”

All I can do is nod.

We stay like that for a few moments, and when our waitress comes by again, it jolts us back to the present.

“Is everything alright? Can I get you anything else?”

“No, we’re good, but can I get the check?”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Once Dad takes care of the bill, we leave the restaurant and walk toward where our cars are parked next to each other. That was intentional on my part.

The afternoon breeze is gentle, playing with the strands of my hair that have fallen out of my bun.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard with what I said back there. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

“It’s completely fine. I just wasn’t expecting it.” When we stop at my car, I turn back to him and say, “I meant everything I said back there. I want you to be happy.”

“Thanks, honey.”

I watch him unlock his car door before turning toward mine. “Text me to let me know when you get back to campus, okay?” he asks.

“Of course. And drive safe.”

“You too.”

As I climb into my car and close the door, I’m happy to be somewhat shut off from the world once more. Why does it feel like everything is changing when nothing really has?

I start the engine but don’t pull out immediately. Instead, I sit there for a moment longer and let myself think about what Dad said. About him dating again.

For some reason, my mind drifts back to memories of him being there for every event that I had as a child, even before my mother took off. The thought of someone else standing beside him at future events is both warming and chilling at the same time.

I’m happy for him; I am. He deserves to find someone who makes him laugh and feel loved in ways that go beyond what I can offer as his daughter. But a part of me is still reeling from what Mom did and feels like it’s losing something all over again.

Dad’s words repeat in my head—this doesn’t change anything between us—and I hold onto them as I finally pull out of the parking spot and drive back to campus.

By the time I park in my apartment building’s parking lot and kill the engine, I’m ready for a much-needed nap. With a quiet sigh, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, allowing myself a moment to just be before leaving the comfort of my car and closing the rest of the world off once I shut my front door behind me.