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My gaze darts to the door where the annoying noise is coming from the
re.
I pick up my phone from off the table to check the time.
“Shit. That’s probably that Mr. Everettson dude,” I mumble as I stumble to my feet.
Combing my hair out of my face, I trip around the mess of pillows, pizza boxes, and the empty beer bottles that I don’t even remember drinking and throw open the door. Then I instantly cringe.
Standing on the other side is a tall, middle-aged man with short brown hair, a scruffy beard, and crazy silver eyes. He has on a T-shirt, worn jeans, and worker boots, looking as though he’s about to go to work at a construction site. But that’s not what has me cringing.
The front yard is covered with fallen tree branches and the grass is so soaked it looks like a swamp. The street isn’t any better. Tree branches and large puddles cover the asphalt.
Lovely, Sky. You destroyed every tree within a mile radius.
“Skylin?” the guy asks with hesitancy.
Tearing my gaze away from the street, I blink at him. “Yeah.”
A smile breaks out across his face. “I’m Gabe Everettson. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” His smile slightly fades. “Although, I wish it were under better circumstances.”
A beat of silence passes. My head pounds, and my throat is as dry as my frizzy hair. I want to tell him to leave, that I’m fine living here on my own. That I’m fine.
Fine. Fine. Fine.
Maybe if I repeat the word in my head enough times, it’ll actually come true.
The sky grumbles as if warning me that I need to at least pretend to be fine.
He studies me with his lips pressed together. “Look, we don’t know each other, and I can only guess how hard this must be for you, but I promise my family and I are going to do everything in our power to make sure you feel comfortable living with us.” He massages the back of his neck while muttering, “I owe your father that much. Maybe even more.”
My brows dip. “Owe him for what?”
He drops his hand to his side as a drop of worry flickers in his expression. “For saving my life once.”
My brows rise toward my hairline. “My dad saved your life?”
He nods. “He never told you the story?”
I shake my head. “Honestly, up until my parents’ lawyer read the will, I didn’t know you existed. Or that my parents even had a lawyer. Or a will.” My parents have never been the type to plan for the future. Or, at least I thought so. I guess I was wrong.
Maybe that officer was right. Maybe I don’t know my parents as well as I thought.
I hastily shove the thought from my mind. No, I knew—know them. They wouldn’t just take off and leave me on my own. At least not for this long.
“Yeah, your father and I sort of drifted apart after college,” Gabe explains. “But, up until then, we were pretty close. And he did save my life once. If you want, I can tell you the story sometime.”
I smash my lips together and nod. “All right.”
“Good.” He claps his hands together, matching the clapping of thunder. Then his gaze wanders over my shoulder. “Let me get my sons, and then you can show us what you’re taking with you and what we’re putting in storage, okay?” He turns to walk away.
“Wait … Sons?” My gaze flicks to the truck and trailer parked in the driveway where I can make out two figures inside, one in the back seat and one in the front, but the windows are too tinted to make out faces and ages. “You have kids?”
He stops at the bottom of the stairs and faces me. “Six actually. Six sons. But don’t worry; they’re not too scary.” He smiles, but it looks a bit forced.
Lovely. He’s afraid of his own kids.
Being the only child, the idea of living in a house with six other kids, not to mention all guys, just seems straight-up crazy. And emotionally challenging.
