Have fun in Texas. Let me know when you're back so we can catch up.

Harley's text came through as I was walking through the gate and onto the field to find dad. The game had just started and it was the first time I'd gone through my texts since I'd hopped off the flight. I'd reply later.

The car service was taking my things home so I didn't have to drag them through the stadium. Mom would be around here somewhere, probably hanging out with the other wives.

The atmosphere was insane. The stadium was full, cheering, clapping, shouting. As I weaved through staff and security, wearing a tag that verified me as VIP, I said hello to familiar faces.

Most of the crew knew who I was but I had to wear the tag just in case there were new security members who mistook me for a super fan trespassing and tackled me to the ground. Far fetched, but dad made sure we were identifiable at all times.

I could see the back of him as I snuck up. He was on the sidelines, hoodie and cap on, headset covering his ears. Players were lined up on the bench and I gestured for them to hush and not spoil the surprise.

Someone didn't realise and there was a loud "little Lahey," from one of them. Dad didn't hear him.

When I reached dad, I jumped onto his back and wrapped my arms around his neck. He didn't miss a beat.

"No fucking way," he said and I dropped just before he spun around, surprise and delight on his face. "What the fuck, kid. What are you doing here?"

He pulled me into an enormous hug and lifted his headset to sit on the side of his head.

"You good?" He asked, looking me over. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I shouted over the noise in the stadium. "I came to visit and thought I'd surprise you."

"Best surprise ever," he tousled my hair, making a mess of the loose waves I'd carefully created. "How long are you in town for?"

I shrugged. "I haven't decided."

"Forever?"

"Dad."

He laughed and tucked me under his arm, flicking his head set back on. "A dad can hope. No, Rooney, I wasn't talking to you dip shit. Yes, back on side A. Got it."

"I'm gonna head up to the box and get a drink," I said, knowing he had a job to do and he'd find it hard to focus because he'd want to catch up with me. "We'll hang out later. I'll need a ride home."

"You're not gonna leave, right?"

"No, dad," I sighed. "My stuff is at home. I'll be here."

"Stay out of trouble, princess."

He grinned when I rolled my eyes at him.

It was his go to warning phrase for the games from the time we were children. Stay out of trouble, princess. He knew Lucas was the one who needed to hear that the most, but he never singled him out. So we were all warned and he's said it ever since.

"You too," I said and walked off.

Upstairs I wandered through the hall until I came to dads box. It was more like a living room with floor to ceiling windows, a bathroom, stacks of food and recliners.

There were a dozen people scattered around, some watching the game while engaged in excited conversation. Some clearly didn't want to be interrupted for even a moment, so focused on the game their bodies were tense with anticipation.

The beverage table had a range of options, including beer and wine. I went straight for the jug of water and poured a tall glass and then I saw the boxes of herbal teas, about twelve different flavours lined up.

Smiling, I popped a black current tea bag into a mug of hot water and let it brew while I scanned the table of food.

Suddenly the presence of another person made me lift my head and I found a tall man timidly pointing at the table. He had a mess of brown hair, stubble coating his jaw and warm olive skin, like he spent a lot of time in the sun.

"Are we allowed to eat the food?" He whispered and I looked at the spread of gourmet finger foods.

Upon further inspection of the stranger, he seemed a little out of place. He was wearing faded jeans, a plain t-shirt and solid black boots.

"You're allowed to eat the food," I assured him.

"Oh," he lightly laughed. "I wasn't sure if we had to pay for it."

"Do you have a pass to be up here?"

"Yeah," he quickly reached into his pocket and waved the little ticket that gave him access to the boxes. He didn't strike me as someone who would've broken in though. "We managed to get a sponsorship from the team and I got sent this season pass too. I don't know. I don't watch a lot of football but I thought I'd come and check it out."

"A sponsorship?" I asked. "What kind of business do you run?"

He slid the pass, along with his hand, into his pocket. "A rescue ranch, for animals," he ducked his head, looking at his own outfit before he looked around at the other people in the box. "I guess I missed the dress code."

There were a lot of suits, ties and beautiful dresses but I thought he looked good. It was a simple outfit, but it fit him well.

He picked up a cracker with blue cheese, salmon and spinach on it, his stare cautious as he took a sniff.

When he noticed me watching him with a small smile, his nose and cheeks turned a warm red. "I probably look like a fish out of water right now, huh? I don't eat food like this. Is it good?"

I shrugged and picked up my own cracker, taking a bite. He watched me while I took the time to chew and taste. "Hmm, it's not as bad as it looks."

He ate his own and nodded in agreement. "The cheese is a bit much but it's alright. I'm Roman, by the way."

"Abby."

"It's nice to meet you," he said and I sipped on the hot sweet tea. "So, what brings you to the game, or the VIP box? You a big fan of the sport?"

"Uh, I am a fan but I'm visiting my parents. I live in New York. Sort of. I'm not sure where home is right now but this is where I grew up."

I have no idea why I told him that.

"I've been to New York," he told me, seemingly excited. "My little sister won tickets to a set tour of the Friends show. She made me go with her. It wasn't bad. A lot of lights."

"I love New York, but if I had to choose between the lights of Times Square or the stars over Dallas, I'm picking a spot in the field and settling in for the night."

"I couldn't agree more," he said, smiling. "I mean, the lights were a cool experience but I wouldn't trade my wide open spaces."

"You must have a lot of land if you run a ranch?" I asked.

"It's a big place. I want the animals to have as much space as possible, you know? Keep it natural and all that. What do you do for work?"

"Uh," I hesitated, unsure how to answer him. It'd been a long time since I'd met someone I had to explain who I was to.

Telling him that I used to model opened up a conversation I wasn't prepared to have. Explaining the reason I left, the reason I felt so unsettled right now, it sounded exhausting. This man seemed to have no idea who I was and I kind of liked that.

"I'm between jobs right now," I said. "A friend of mine is kick starting her own clothing line and I've been helping with that. Behind the scenes stuff. PR, legal, social, that sort of thing. It's at a bit of a stand still though. She's still at school and wants to give herself some time before committing to it full time."

"School? How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen. She's fourteen. My brother is dating her sister."

"Oh, I follow. Wow. So she wants to start her own clothing line at fourteen?"

"I know," I said, eating another cracker. "It sounds insane, like a pipe dream all girls have. But she's the real deal. A freaking prodigy. When she wants to, she's going to make it big. I truly don't think I've ever seen talent like hers, even in big name designers. There's just something. . . captivating in her clothing. And the fits never miss. I can't explain it. She's incredible."

His smile was warm as he looked down at me. "Well, with support like that, she can't go wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"You're just so. . ." he grasped for a word, his dark brown gaze narrowing with thought. "Passionate. I believe in this girl and I haven't even met her."

The room erupted into cheers and shouts of enthusiasm. Roman and I glanced toward the window where the cowboys were clapping hands, obviously having made a good play.

Hopefully dad didn't ask me what I thought of the game later. I wouldn't have a clue.

"So, don't take this the wrong way," I said, facing Roman again, he watched me, his full attention on what I was saying. "You said you run a rescue ranch. Do you actually run it? You look sort of—"

"Young?" He filled in and I nodded, a guilty smile on my lips. "Yeah I'm twenty two. The ranch belongs to my folks. Mom is a vet and that takes up most of her time. Dad ran the show until a couple of years ago. He was in an accident, broke his spine and suffered brain damage. So he's wheel chair bound and has issues with his memories. Forgets that he's told the same story two minutes earlier, that sort of thing. Makes it hard introducing him to new people. We deal. I took over his position after the accident."

"That's rough," I said, giving him a sad smile. "It must be hard to see him like that."

Roman leaned against the edge of the table and nodded. "It's hard because that man used to be larger than life. You know? He never sat still for long, he was active, he worked hard. He's got a good attitude about what's happened but it has been tough watching him have to adjust to a wheelchair, knowing he can't ride a horse again or walk the dogs or hike."

My heart hurt at the expression of distant sorrow on Roman's face. He was clearly remembering a time when his father had been healthier.

"Sorry to spill all of that," he said, tousling his hair and shaking off the heartache.

"I don't mind," I assured him. "You have horses?"

He nodded and went on to explain how many horses were on the ranch and how long he'd had them. Each had unique names and personalities, it was obvious Roman loved them all, even if he did list at least two dozen.

Dad walked into the box then, the room bristled with excitement and he was swarmed with greetings and handshakes but his curious stare was set on me.

I listened to Roman talk, ignoring dad's interrogation, even if it was non verbal, I knew he was wondering who I was with.

"You've noticed it, right?" Roman said, looking between dad and I, where my attention kept darting. "That dude is watching you and it's weird as fuck."

I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile. He had no idea that the weird man was my father and it was funnier than I expected.

Dad had ditched his head set and whistle, so without knowing who he was, he looked like a regular dude with a cowboys hoodie on.

Plus, while he was greeted and given attention, most of these people were super familiar with dad, so no one was star struck, hence the lack of fanfare which would've been a give away.

"You want me to say something to him?" Roman asked. "The man is like, forty. Gross."

It was so hard not to laugh, but I composed myself enough to nod at him with big wide eyes.

"Actually, could you please say something to him. It's making me kind of comfortable."

He didn't even hesitate, he walked straight for dad and I admittedly took a brief moment to appreciate the firmness of his back and shoulders.

Weaving himself through the small group in front of dad, who dispersed at the interruption, he held himself tall and all I could do was stare.

I didn't think he would actually do it until he was gesturing at me and I could hear his words.

"Quit staring at my friend man," his tone was casual but there was no mistaking the authority. It was effortless. "It's making her uncomfortable and she's nineteen. You're a hell of a lot older. Don't be a creep."

Dad's brows rose and then slowly his attention shifted to me and I had my teeth clamped down on the inside of my cheeks as hard as possible so I didn't burst into laughter.

"I guess I can't be mad," dad said, clamping his hand down on Roman's shoulder and steering him towards us. "Anyone willing to defend my daughter against old perverted men is good with me."

Roman's eyes doubled in size and if I thought he'd blushed earlier, it was nothing compared to the crimson staining his cheeks now.

"I'm sorry," I said to Roman who was staring at me in alarm. "I didn't think you would actually do it."

"Why wouldn't I?" He sounded breathless as they came to a stop in front of me.

"Now it must be my turn," dad grinned and I groaned. "Who the fuck is this?"

"This is Roman. Your team sponsors his ranch, dad." I said.

"So he didn't come with you?" His hand was still firmly placed on Roman's shoulder. Which I knew wasn't a threatening gesture. Just a bit of amusing payback for the earlier confrontation.

"No he didn't come with me," I said, watching the confusion grow on Roman's face. "We met here. He thought you were a dirty old man. Which isn't entirely off base. You and mom are gross."

"Oh shut up."

"Wait," Roman gestured between us and then his finger waved at the entire room. "Your team sponsors my ranch? You're a football player?"

"I'm the coach," dad said, finally letting go of his shoulder. He gave him a solid slap on the back and extended his hand. "Drayton Lahey."

Recognition registered on Roman's face and for some reason, my heart sank a little bit.

"Your name was on the cheque we got. Wow. It's incredible to meet you, sir. I can't tell you how grateful we were to have your donation. It's gone a long way already."

And with that, my spirits lifted. It wasn't about who dad was, but what he'd done for Roman's ranch. Dad looked pleased to hear his contribution had been well received.

"What are you even doing up here?" I asked. "You have a game to be coaching."

"I needed to take a piss and grab a drink and check on my beautiful daughter who thirsty boys are constantly swarming to wherever she goes."

Roman shifted from foot to foot and stammered. "I wasn't— no she— I mean she is beautiful. Very beautiful but I—"

"Dude," dad lowered his voice. "Chill out man, your nervous is showing."

"Ignore him," I sighed. "He was gifted at birth with the ability to annoy and embarrass literally anyone who he comes into contact with."

"It's a talent," dad said, turning around to the sound of someone calling his name. One of the many errand runners gestured for him to return to the field and he gave her a quick nod. "That's my break over. I didn't get a drink or take a piss but fuck it. Enjoy the rest of the game, I expect to see you both in this window whenever I turn around. No disappearing togeth—"

"Dad, I swear—"

He laughed and gave me a kiss on the head. "See you at home, princess." 

We watched him leave and then the awkward silence settled upon us. Roman thought I was beautiful? Very beautiful. I smiled at the floor, letting my hair curtain my face so he couldn't see the tickle of pink on my cheeks.

"So," he said after a moment. "That was your dad, huh. Whirlwind of a man."

"You have no idea."

"You just let me walk up and beef with your dad."

There was humour in his tone and I looked up to see him playfully glaring at me.

"I really did not expect you to follow through," I said, laughing. "That was very sweet. I appreciate it, I do. You're a lot braver than some people."

"Oh I don't know about bravery," he slid his hands into his pockets and we slowly moved over to a sofa and sat down. "It's just a matter of finding perverts disgusting. My sister told me once that even blatant staring makes girls feel anxious and uncomfortable."

"Oh it's so uncomfortable," I said. "But I can be quite vocal sometimes. More so now. I— well a while ago— I was assaulted and I just— it had an impact. It took some time but I'm healing."

His lips parted in despair, genuine despair and I tucked my legs up under my bum.

"Some men are absolute pricks."

"Yeah," I exhaled a quick breath, feeling nervous.

It was still hard to talk about, sometimes I worried that it would sound attention seeking, as if I was looking for pity.

"He went to prison," I said, giving him a wide smile. "There was a big group of us that ended up coming forward, sharing similar experiences. I used to model, he was an agent. Kind of took advantage."

Roman's jaw ticked, anger on his face as he folded his arms across his chest. He had such beautiful long, black lashes. "Bastard. You know it's awful to say but I damn well hope he gets a taste of his own medicine while he's in prison."

I winced. "I've secretly hoped the same thing. Which made me feel awful but he— he just did so much damage."

He studied my face for a moment, such a soft gaze. "Can I just say, I'm so glad to see you're still smiling after all of that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Because it's a beautiful smile. It doesn't surprise me one bit to hear that you modelled."

"Oh, I wasn't— I wasn't the right fit for that world. Size wise."

He recoiled, his gaze sweeping me over. "What? I don't mean to over step but I don't see how that's possible."

"How much do you know about the world of modelling?" I asked with amusement.

"Honestly, not one fucking thing."

I laughed. "Perfect. Yeah, no, I'm a little too wide. A little too short."

His brows furrowed and he gave a slow nod. "Right. I don't get that. I have no idea how size is even a factor. Beauty is beauty, right?"

My breath caught. "I think so too."

"So you don't model now?"

"After everything that happened I just decided it wasn't for me. I always thought I wanted to be a big name, living the high life. Now I'm not so sure. I think it's become clear that the happiness I thought existed at the top isn't necessarily real. It's a brutal world. And personally, one I'm not really interested in fighting for."

"At least you've figured that out sooner, rather than later. You've still got a ton of time left to decide what you want, right?"

"Right," I said, smiling at him. He sat with his arms folded, legs parted.

"If you ever want to come out to the ranch by the way, feel free. We do horse treks and tours."

"That sounds fun," I said, already thinking about when I could go.

"We have tour guides," he said. "But I'll escort you around, if you do come out. Just ask for me at the front desk. Roma— oh, I told you my name. Yeah, just ask and I'll be there."

He tousled his hair, his words were mumbled and he seemed flustered. It was cute. Especially because upon first glance, he seemed like the sort of man who was sure of himself, confident and gorgeous.

I began to plan what day I would go out and visit his ranch.