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I snorted.
Me:Why don’t I believe that?
Roman:I’m hurt, Barlow! I was very respectable. You, on the other hand…
Me:What’s that supposed to mean!
Roman:You got a little handsy and giggly and you almost lost me my nads.
Me:How did I manage that?
Roman:You were noisy as fuck and woke your dad up.
Me:Oh, shit…
Roman:Eh, you’ll be fine. We had some words, but it’s fine.
I sunk back into the pillows and groaned. The last thing I needed was Dad knowing Roman was in my room last night. I was about to reply when there was a knock on my door. I looked up and saw Dad poke his head around the door. I was fairly sure I was already incredibly pale; was it possible to get paler?
“Morning,” he said, coming in. “How are you feeling?”
“Uh, fuzzy and gross…”
Dad sat on the end of my bed and looked at me intently.
“Sorry I got drunk…” I started, wondering how much trouble I was going to get in.
Dad shrugged. “You’re almost eighteen, these things happen. And, you got home safe and not too late. Just don’t make a habit of it.”
I nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah… About–”
“It seems, maybe, there’s more to Roman than meets the eyes, Pipe…” he mused.
I swallowed. “Um… We’re just friends…”
Dad nodded. “I know.”
“You don’t have to worry. We’re not… I mean, we just…”
God, I seriously hoped Roman and I hadn’t had sex just after we’d woken my dad up. I felt my cheeks heat and hoped he didn’t notice.
Dad looked at me with interest. “You know, darl, a few months ago I would have been more pleased by that than I am now.” He stood, kissed my hair and started to leave. “Have a shower and I’ll get some coffee on, yeah?”
I nodded dumbly and watched him leave.
What in the hell is the world coming to when my dad has anything positive to say about Roman Lombardi?
