Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“I’d never think that.” My eyes suddenly feel hot, stinging. “I’m so fortunate to be your kid. It’s just you and me, big guy. No matter what.”
He pulls me into a hug as he sniffs away the tears. I blink away a couple of my own, squeezing him tight. I have a great dad. I really do. And I’ve probably spent way too much time not appreciating how good I’ve had it.
He releases me and offers a contrite look. “I should add—I’m sorry I dragged your roommate into all this. I hope you two can work things out. He seemed like a good dude.”
Just like that, I stiffen. “He accepted payment from you. To be my friend.”
The reminder sends the burn of embarrassment to my throat.
“Before he even knew you,” Dad points out. “And for what it’s worth, he did try to return the money.”
“I don’t care,” I say emphatically. “He breached my trust. How am I supposed to forgive that?”
“You just forgave me…”
“Yeah, because you’re my father. He’s my— ” I stop abruptly.
Dad latches on to that. “I knew there had to be one,” he sighs.
“Jack and I aren’t dating.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“We’re not,” I insist.
“But?”
“I thought maybe we were headed in that direction.” Hesitation has me rubbing my temples. “But it’s complicated, because there’s someone else I like too.”
“Someone else? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? How many guys are you dating, kiddo?”
God, this is awkward. And also oddly cathartic.
“Only one other guy. Nate. A friend of theirs. He says he likes me but can’t be tied down. And he’s a bassist.”
Dad furrows his brow as if he’s unsure whether to be disappointed he didn’t raise me better or feel at fault that I’d be foolish enough to fall for a musician.
“Sounds like you have your hands full.”
“It’s been a struggle,” I say, laughing at myself. “But don’t worry, because it looks like it’s over with both of them.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners as a grin breaks free. “I don’t know how bad I actually feel about that. I mean, I know this sucks for you, but it sure makes my job easier.”
“The real sucky part is I might be in love with both of them.”
“You’re not.”
“Um. Okay.”
My baffled expression summons a chuckle from him. “Listen to me, kid. I know you’ve got a lot of love to give. Being in love, though, that’s a whole different thing. The heart knows there’s always just one.”
“Really? When’s it going to tell me?”
“You gotta listen. If you’re in love with one of them, it’s been telling you.”
I don’t know if that’s true.
Or maybe it’s proof I’ve never been in love with either one of them.
Dad sticks around for three days to spend time with me. I skip the classes I deem unimportant and squeeze the rest in between lunches and outings with my father.
But three jam-packed days of tourist activities also means the paps are staked out in front of the house at all hours to snap shots of Gunner Bly. He’s still staying at the hotel, but the second he was spotted visiting me in Notting Hill, it was all over. We were besieged.
Lee is on cloud nine. Bouncing with joy every time a new photo pops up on Insta or some celebrity blog. Jamie’s car parked on the curb. Our trash bins. Jack sweaty and shirtless. Lee in his pajamas. Me coming in and out of the house. It’s typical paparazzi fodder and intrusive as hell, but Lee has ordered me to let the little people bask in the glow of celebrity. By little people, he means himself of course.
Last night over dinner, Jamie said there’s an army of women salivating over Jack’s shirtless pics on Twitter, which triggered an unwanted pang of jealousy followed by a jolt of angry self-reproach that I still care enough to feel jealous. Jack and I haven’t spoken since the night I learned the truth, despite his attempts to get me alone. I’ve brushed him off every time, using my dad’s visit as an excuse.
Really, though, I can’t put my heart through another rehashing of Jack’s betrayal.
On our last night, Dad takes me back to Soho House. Just me and him in a private dining room to celebrate my twentieth birthday. I make him promise not to tell Lee or the others, because I don’t want them making a big deal out of it. Maybe if Jack and I were on better terms, I’d be down for a roommate hangout or even a small party, but right now it’s too much of a hassle.
When our personal server brings out a huge slice of chocolate truffle cake with one lit candle on it, I smile at my father, the tears welling up.
“Happy birthday, baby girl.”
“Thanks, big guy.”
I blink away the tears and blow out my candle. The waiter discreetly places a second slice in front of Dad, then camouflages into the background.