In which the "it girl" with daddy issues and the quarterback with daddy issues connect over a mutual bond of trying to gain affection from their dads
Or...
In which two broken souls find their way into one another's lives in a means to find love.
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Since Luna Ramirez was six-years-old she had a tradition on her birthday every year. Which strangely involved her stepfather cooking. It started the day of her sixth birthday when her birth father had once again disappointed her and missed what she thought was one of the most important days of her life. Peter Adams did the one thing he thought of doing, making a six-year-old girl overly sweet pancakes. And this occurred every year since then even when she practically despised him.
"Birthday pancakes," Peter slid the porcelain plate over to her. "For my favorite and only daughter. Happy birthday, Luna."
Luna practically salivated as she glanced at the food, giving her stepfather a grin before cutting right into them. "These are really good!"
Peter grimaced at the sight of her full mouth. "You think you'll ever grow out of this whole birthday pancake phase?"
"Never," she gasped. "They have colorful sprinkles and whipped cream. It's the only acceptable time you can eat sprinkles for breakfast."
"So, when you're...let's say 30," he waved around his hands. "And you're possibly married and have your own kids. Are you gonna expect these pancakes from me?"
"Absolutely," she stated, seriously. "This is tradition!"
"Happy Birthday!" Maria walked into the kitchen, engulfing her daughter in a huge. "I can't believe you're 17. My only daughter...you're growing up too fast!"
She flashed her mom a tight-lipped smile, too occupied with her mouth full of pancakes to even respond.
"Oh!" Peter perked up, pulling a small box out of his pocket. "We got you a gift."
"Peter got you this," Maria corrected. "You'll receive your gift from me later. But, for now, I have to go to work. I'll see you tonight, mija."
Luna nodded giving her mom a small peck on the cheek, before eyeing the box in front of her and tearing the ribbon off it. Her eyes widened at the sight of a shiny pair of car keys lying in the box.
She raised her eyebrow. "A new car?"
"The police took your car in as evidence and I know as much as you love driving my cars," Peter let out a small laugh. "That you would like to finally have your own, again. Since clearly, the police aren't giving your car back anytime soon."
"Thank you," she smiled softly.
"It was nothing," he waved her off.
"Not just for the car," Luna shrugged. "For everything, actually. I know, I might not always seem like I appreciate you. But, I do, you are my dad. No matter how much I might deny it."
