Dad smiled at him knowingly, then his face sobered. “I know he must be busy right now, with the playoffs, but it seems like maybe something worse than that is going on.” What the hell? “What are you—?” “Scott Hunter,” his dad said calmly. “You’ve been seeing him.” “Dad, come on. There’s no way that Scott would ever—I mean, Scott Hunter isn’t—” “I don’t know anything about Scott Hunter, but I know you. And I like to think I’d be able to tell when my son is in love.”
