I could almost picture her, face blood red and eyes wide, and I grinned. Even miles away, I couldn’t resist teasing her. Hell, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It seemed odd to have not seen her on Friday and facing a Sunday without eggs just didn’t seem right. We exchanged a couple of more texts and then I tossed my phone aside before Dad had a shit fit and threw it out the window.

In the next round, Jase bowed out and then Teresa quickly disappeared and the poker game fell apart after that.

“How’s school?” Dad asked once we were alone.

Nursing my beer, I leaned back in the chair. “It’s going good. Got a really easy semester.”

He nodded as he picked at the label on his bottle. “And the meetings? You’re going?”

I sat my bottle down. “Dad, you’d be the first to know if I wasn’t going. And I talked to Dr. Bale about this weekend. He was cool with it.”

“Just want to make sure.” He sat back, hooking his knee over his other leg. If anyone saw my dad now in his flannel shirt and ripped jeans, they wouldn’t believe he was a successful lawyer. “What about soccer? You give any more thought about next year?”

“Dad . . . I won’t be able to join the team at Shepherd my senior year.” I ran my hand through my hair and then dropped my arm. “And I’ll be twenty-two by then.”

“What about afterwards?” he asked, not ready to let it go.

My gaze settled over his shoulder, landing on the fridge. Photos of me scoring goals and Teresa dancing covered almost the entire door. “I don’t know, Dad.”

“Can’t fail unless you try,” he said, drinking deep.

My brows knitted. “Isn’t that you can’t succeed if you don’t try?”

“Does it matter?” He flashed a grin. “Cam, you’re a damn good player. Soccer is, or at least, was a passion. We have videos to send to coaches. And you know the coach at Shepherd would help you take new ones.”

“I know.” I sighed, shaking my head slowly. “And I keep up my workouts and practice with the guys when I can, but . . . I don’t know. Maybe next year, when I’m about to graduate . . .”

“Uh-huh.” His gaze was shrewd. “Cameron . . . Cameron . . .”

Yakking on about soccer was hard for me. Wasn’t like a future playing was completely out of the question. That was why I kept up the training, but there was nothing I could do about right now.

“Is there a young lady in your life now?” he asked.

Perhaps I should’ve let him ask about soccer. “Dad . . .”

“What?” He smiled again and then finished off the beer. “I like to have the four-one-one on my son’s life.”

My head dropped back. “Four-one-one? Are you drunk?”

“I’m buzzing.”