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That was a crazy thought. I was being crazy.
Thinking about Johnny sitting on my bed, offering to tutor me, made my heart thump against my rib cage.
He was so smart. Like for real, he was incredibly intelligent and patient and a million other amazing things.
After he left, I spent the rest of the evening in emotional overload, thinking about how reckless I had behaved. I had no idea what I was thinking when I climbed onto his lap like that, but I didn’t care because Johnny hugged me back.
He held me to his body and hugged me so tight that I was still trembling from the contact. And then he kissed me goodbye.
Granted, it was on the cheek, but still. His lips had touched my body without coercion.
I didn’t even care about Bella right now. Not tonight at least.
It was hard to dwell on the negative when something so incredibly positive had just happened to me.
I understood that he didn’t see me in the way I saw him, and I got that this would never amount to anything more than friends, but I didn’t care because he seemed to be sticking around. He seemed determined to help me.
I wasn’t sure what was happening, but whatever it was, I didn’t want it to stop. I was happy to be his friend. I just wanted to keep him in my life. In whatever way I could.
I wanted him to stay…
“Are you deaf?” my father’s slurred voice penetrated my thoughts, bringing me back down to reality with a depressing bang.
“Huh?”
“I said get out of the fucking way,” Dad barked, tossing the remote at me. “I can’t see the match with ya!”
The remote smacked off my hip and landed on the floor, resulting in the batteries flying out and rolling under the couch.
“Sorry,” I hurried out of his way of the television and quickly scrambled to retrieve the batteries and put them back in the remote for him.
“Why are you being like that?” Dad asked then, eyeing me with bleary mistrust.
Exhaling slowly, I set the remote down on the coffee table and picked up my phone before turning to look at him. “Being like what, Dad?”
“Acting strange,” he accused, glaring at me. “Smirking to yourself.”
I shrugged my response, unsure how to answer that.
“What’s going on?” he growled, watching me like a hawk, his brown eyes hard and unyielding.
“Nothing’s going on,” I replied quietly.
He pushed his recliner down and stood up. The move evoked a tsunami of terror to flood my body and I scuttled backwards.
“Give me that,” he instructed, holding a hand out to me.
My brows shot up. “My phone?”
“Yes, your phone,” he sneered. “Give it to me.”
Trembling, I walked over to him and placed it in his palm.
Immediately, he began to scroll through my messages and call list. I didn’t understand why, considering he was swaying so much I doubted he could read in his state. But I didn’t dare move, knowing that if I walked out, this could turn messy.
“Where’s his number?” he demanded, gripping my phone in his huge hand.
“Whose number, Dad?” I croaked out.
