I've never been so pissed off after I won a game.

Was I happy UW was now 5-0 and solely atop the PAC-12 conference? Absolutely. Was I happy with how distracted I'd let myself get from my selfish father's family upgrade announcement? Fuck no.

I knew that days later, or weeks or even months, the way we'd earned the win dissolved and only the outcome remained. But I was anything but happy when my 'first half unraveled, second half redemption over my own shitty play' win was celebrated with my dad and not Ellie.

After the game, I drove Dad in the four-year old, red F150 truck he'd bought me in high school to Palisade, another Wes recommendation. He seemed like he knew I needed an off-beat, privacy-first restaurant. Dad approved of the choice, even reserved a table online on the drive out of town, and the circular restaurant with wood beams that jutted out like spokes on a wheel and the sick view of the sailboats and yachts parked on the water all screamed right up Dad's upscale alley.

For the second time in two nights, I sat across from Dad at a white linen tablecloth table. Candlelight flickered yellow highlights and gray shadows across his facial features, etched with lines of age and concern. His brown eyes looked hooded from how his chin dipped downward.

"So..." I coughed vibrations across my dry throat.

Like I felt at this point after any game, my body shifted from the post-win adrenalin high to the letdown low like a detox crash. My muscles tightened into dull aches, my brain felt tired, and my patience was stretched thin.

Only my stomach worked normally and growled loudly, especially after we ordered. Ironically, Dad and I both ordered the filet mignon steak, although I swapped out the potatoes for a second medium-rare steak and added a salad while Dad got the menu's meal but well-done.

Just like the ride over here, the air between us was thick with uncertain anticipation. I'd gathered my thoughts and opinions as I focused them on, of all topics, Ellie's relationship with her parents. I fully recognized the bitter irony in that I possibly wore down some of the rough edges of my relationship with Dad while Ellie had cut off communication with both her parents.

Do I want... a relationship with Dad though?

For so many years, I'd contently ignored his existence, avoided him as much as possible, and blamed him for how he'd walked out on our family. All of those self-defense mechanisms were preferable over the idea I'd been his 'not-chosen' child for a reason. And while Ellie had given me the most amazing release after Dad's news initially struck right into the nearly ten-year old nerve that pushed Dad away, my jaw clenched at the reminder he planned not one but two more kids whose lives he not only replaced Brody and me with but also potentially screwed up.

Which Brody's already confirmed is related to his last name change.

I'd texted Brody before tonight's game but hadn't checked his reply because I assumed once I knew more of the details from his side, I'd have gotten angrier than I already felt.

Dad's eyes shifted down to the table for a moment, then lifted back to mine. He kicked off the conversation with the last topic I'd expected. "Your girlfriend Eleanor -"

"Dad," I cut him off with narrowed eyes. "If you have a problem with her again then we're done here. She's the only reason I'm sitting across from you right now."

"I don't," he replied in a stern voice but leaned back slightly against his seat. "I was going to say she's something special and... I'm sorry I didn't see that sooner."

"She is - wait... Really?" Now I slumped back against my seat. "You serious? No talk about girls distracting me from my future?"

"You've demonstrated you're mature enough in that area by now, pulled yourself out of a distraction," he admitted with a small shoulder lift. "But she pointed out a few... deficiencies to me today."

My mouth opened with a preloaded army of defenses for Ellie but his raised hand stopped me. "All requested and all rightfully deserved," he said. "I... haven't been the most straight-forward with you, one of Liv's favorite hobbies is pointing out my faults and, like Eleanor, she's pretty damn good at it."

"She is," I whole-heartedly agreed. "Ellie was the first person who actually hated me because of football but grew to like the actual person I was. She'd love me just as much if I was a high school football coach instead of played professionally. She doesn't like the attention and drama but she gets and accepts it... for me. And I'm pretty damn lucky to have found someone like that."

My admission nearly knocked the wind out of me but warmth spread through my chest the more my mouth word-vomited on its own about Ellie. While I believed every one word, as they settled in my brain, so did the gravity of how strongly I felt about Ellie.

I'd do anything for my girl, including whatever it takes to keep her mine.

"You are," Dad agreed like I'd just stated how nice the view of the sunset was over the water and in between the white sailboat's poles. At this point, my jaw had probably detached and dropped onto the table, so he used my continued shocked silence and added, "I'm sorry LT. I've made a lot of mistakes and hope you'll forgive me for them."

"I..." I snapped my mouth shut because my gut reaction was I told the man he'd given me too little, too late. But the defeated look in his eyes, which swirled with remorse, assured me that he was at least sincere. "I don't know."

"There's a lot you'd never let me explain." The way Dad shifted the conversation's focus to himself, like usual, quelled the warm feeling I'd gotten from Ellie. "I've made a lot of mistakes and want to own up to them but also clear up some possible misunderstandings."

"Misunderstandings?" My eyebrows squeezed high into my forehead. "Like what?"

"How I left Canada," he started in a surprisingly uncertain tone of voice. His eyes dropped down to his hands, which he clasped together and rested on the table between us. "I'd always said that it was the job promotion -"

"When you picked Brody to go with you," I interrupted and hated myself for the hurt that crept in and wrapped around each word out of my mouth.

"When you told me you hated me, never wanted to see me again, and get the hell out of your life," he corrected me.

I sat back in my seat and scanned through my memories, painful ones I usually buried deep inside and ignored their existence because they brought nothing but pain. Images of Brody and I huddled in our rooms while the floor vibrated from all the noise in the downstairs level flashed through my mind.

The fights.

The accusations.

The drinking.

"I had a problem," Dad started, then lifted his gaze, weighted and heavy from years of what he admitted next. "I wasn't a good father. Now I know that, along with how I wasn't ready to be one and I let... alcohol cause even more problems."

"So you're saying I was a mistake," I grumbled. "Fuck, this is just getting better and better Dad."

Instead of his go-to anger at my cursing, denial of his involvement, and displaced blame, Dad only clamped one of his hands over my wrist and spoke quietly but firmly, "No. No. You were a surprise, so was Brody, but both happy ones. I was the one who wasn't prepared to provide everything you and your mom needed and cracked under the pressure. I... failed, Logan. I'm sorry."

My shoulders slumped at his candid admission and the words settled inside me. I'd never expected I'd have ever heard those words from his mouth, so at this moment, I honestly had no idea how to react past stunned silent. The longer I looked at Dad, I no longer saw the proud, stubborn man who I'd known most of my life. Instead, he looked apologetic, almost broken down, by his own mistakes.

"It's not going to get fixed overnight," I finally muttered quietly. "I know it takes two to make or break a relationship, but... What do you want here? Apology accepted then you go away to your new family? Happy Christmases together while Mom's left alone?"

"No, I..." Dad paused and swallowed hard. "Always cared about your Mom, Logan. I still do, just not in the same way anymore. We only share our concern for you and Brody."

"Funny way of showing it," I grumbled, crossed my arms over my chest, and tipped my chin down to my chest, which directed my gaze onto the table between us. I tracked the flame of the stubby, white candle for a few moments before I lifted my eyes back to Dad's.

Instead of his usual short-quipped responses that dismissed my words and gravitated life around himself, Dad just sat back in his seat and looked at me expectantly, like he wanted whatever I dished out. My eyebrows lifted and he curled his fingers inward to his palm slightly in a 'Go on' gesture.

After I steadied my thoughts with a few slow breaths, the calmness that erupted from me surprised me more than my actual words, "Not sugar coating anything, you had moments where you were a really shitty Dad. You were better with Brody so maybe you'll be better this time around too but... All you ever attempted to connect with me about was football."

His mouth parted but I continued, "I wanted nothing to do with you, I get that and I'm sorry. But I was hurt, you left Mom, me..."

My throat squeezed in on itself and my normally steady voice wavered, but I pushed out the words that flooded out of my brain like a release valve, "I realize I'm still holding onto that resentment and now that you're getting a new family... I just don't know. Based on your actions, I just assume you don't care about anyone but yourself."

"It's a very difficult thing, to step back and take a look at yourself," Dad replied in a low, even voice but his eyes stayed fixed on mine. "To see your mistakes, wish you hadn't made them or at least could do something to change them. I've tried to turn my life around, at the expense of having one with you in it more, and that's one of my biggest regrets."

"I'm probably at the point where I'd diverge into my own life anyways," I muttered in a flat, sarcastic voice. "Hope you don't expect me to babysit either."

"Wouldn't dream of it, LT." Dad's broad shoulders shook as he chuckled. Before we continued whatever the hell conversation this was, our waiter appeared with our dinners.

Drool possibly slipped out the corners of my mouth at the double steak plate that appeared under my nose, edged with a few pieces of buttered asparagus.

"Logan," I redirected him with a tight smile since that was all I had to offer at this moment. "I mostly go by Logan now."

The rest of my dinner with Dad went a lot smoother than I'd expected. The emotions that erupted in me after his announcement that I gained not one but two siblings who'd be twenty-one years younger than me stayed contained.

Our conversation wasn't the most interesting but we stuck to reacquaintance-type topics. Dad brought up football again but more in the context of how I'd adapted to a new team and school. And he asked a lot of questions about my major, how classes went so far, and any adjustment I'd had in Seattle.

I bounced back and forth between my normal skepticism and disbelief to surprised and, by the end of dinner, oddly hopeful. As expected, I gave a lot of credit to Ellie but in the short months I'd been here, I enjoyed what little of Seattle I'd seen.

Except for the seafood.

The oddest part of tonight happened when I dropped Dad off at the hotel. He reached across the center console in a handshake gesture, which I stared at for a moment then shook tightly. The gesture felt forced and awkward, so before my brain registered my feet had moved, I slammed my door behind me and jogged around the truck.

"Wait, Dad," I called over to him, then pulled him into a quick hug. Not surprisingly, his back stiffened but his arms wrapped around me as he exhaled slowly, like he released a lot of weight he carried inside.

Weird, I know the feeling.

"Thanks for coming here..." I spoke quietly, although internally I felt a lot lighter too. "And... for trying."

"Of course." He slapped one more palm on my upper back, then nodded tightly, wished me goodnight, and walked into the hotel.

That was... actually decent. Weird and unexpected but different.

While only time told how serious Dad was about our relationship, at this moment I realized if nothing else happened other than how I started to let go of my past resentment, then that was more than enough for me.

My mind shifted away from this surreal evening back to a more concrete reality. The fact I'd spent just as much time talking about Ellie tonight as myself wasn't something I'd ever have imagined from myself before I met her, but Dad's shifted focus on his future redirected my attention towards mine.

And with all things related to my future, I wanted Ellie in it. I'd messed up for sure with her Mom and was miserable after she'd stormed out of our apartment angry but relieved when she'd been as miserable as I was. Even though we'd just crashed into sleep, a feeling of security stirred inside me, like no matter what Ellie and I argued about, how much I screwed something up despite having good intentions, we worked through it.

Because let's face it, she's my endgame.

The drive back home fortunately passed quickly and my feet pounded loudly up the apartment stairs while one of my hands loosened my dress shirt collar. I'd texted Ellie once I'd left the hotel but still called out into the dark living room, "Hey baby?"

"Bedroom," she called out quietly and while I heard no sexy undertones, that one word from her sweet voice went in my ears and shot right down into my balls.

My earlier demands on Ellie's look when I got home flashed through my mind and when I stopped in the doorway, even with the dull light from the outside street lamp into the dark room and soft reading light that illuminated Ellie's face, I definitely wasn't disappointed.

A grin tugged across my face as I took in the sight in front of me. Ellie laid seated up in bed, her small frame still swallowed up by her number ten jersey, bare legs stretched out on the bed, and one ankle crossed of the other. After she turned off her reading lamp, my eyes traced up the curves in her slender legs, to the notes folder on her lap that she snapped shut and set on the floor by the bed.

This girl. Weekend after midterms and she's studying already.

Her dark hair hung down naturally behind her shoulders, her face was bare, her full lips pulled into a coy smile, and those large, doe-shaped eyes framed with thick lashes looked at me curiously. They darkened the longer she gazed at me, her pupils expanded and she slid down in bed until her elbows propped her up. The lower, suggestive tones in her voice, coupled with her unwavered gaze, shot all kinds of urges through me when she asked, "Everything good?"

Even though I knew Ellie asked about me and Dad, only one thought coursed through my mind.

It is now.