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“How come you didn’t mention to anyone that I was your stepdaughter?”
Fuck. I was hoping she hadn’t noticed that.I usually make a point to say that she is my stepdaughter because sometimes people do mistake us for a couple when they can’t quite pinpoint her age, but for some reason I hadn’t. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t tell anyone…I mean I didn’t tell Trent either, but…I guess I wondered why? Did you not want people to know?”
“No, Stass. Of course not. I didn’t really notice, I hadn’t.” I pray she believes me. I pray that the whiskey will convince her that I’m telling the truth because something tells me in her sober mind, she’d be able to see through the bullshit. She can sense the changes in us, just as well as I can.
“Oh.” She slides her arm out from under mine but turns to face me. “I guess I just thought…” she clears her throat. “You’re different, Dominic.We’redifferent.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Dominic. I may have had a little bit to drink, that’s making me a bit more…bold, but it hasn’t made me stupid.”
“I’d never say you were stupid,” I tell her honestly. I’m not surprised that she’s speaking up about the tension growing between us with each passing day. It’s been bubbling to the surface and maybe this conversation is necessary before things escalate and getwayout of hand.
“You’re…different with me. You were this annoying, overprotective father figure type and now…I’m eighteen and it’s like you’re this whole different man that looks out for me.” She bites her bottom lip and I swear she’s doing it just to fuck with me.
“Stass…” I trail off, unsure of what I want to say that could potentially change our relationship forever. “I think it’s in your head.”
“I think you’re lying. I think you’re struggling with what you’re feeling.” She turns her head again and moves slightly closer. “Tell me I’m a liar.” I swallow, not wanting to use such a harsh word that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Tell me you feel nothing when you look at me.”
I close my eyes slowly and look up towards the sky, praying for something, anything that would prevent me from having to answer this question. When nothing seems to intervene, I look back at the young woman whose eyes are imploring me to tell her the truth. Tell her what she wants to hear and more importantly what I’m dying to say. “I… can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t…or won’t?”
“Stassi…”
“I like that things are different.” Her voice is airy and I can almost taste the whiskey on her breath due to our close proximity. I’m preparing to respond when her phone beeps alerting her that she’s received a text message.
“Should you get that?” I ask her, praying for a distraction that will allow me to collect my thoughts.
“It’s not important,” she whispers.
“It might be. Maybe Kate or…your grandparents checking on you.” I’m grasping at straws as I list off the people she’d care about talking to.
A scowl finds her face as she turns to her phone and I happen to catch the generic number and frown when I see the message over her shoulder.
Unknown: Hey, it’s Trent. Still up for some fun tonight?
A feeling of annoyance takes over and I’m pissed at myself for pushing her to open a message from that fuckboy.
She looks up, catching me as I stare at her screen and a smirk finds her face. “Should I answer?”
Tell her yes. Anything to get her mind off this conversation.“Only if you’re telling him, no.”
“Why does it bother you so much anyway?” she asks in such a way, I can tell she already has her own answer made up in her mind.
“You know why,” I tell her.
“Because you worry about me.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think that’s the only reason.”
“Stassi…”
“I think you’re jealous.”And there it is. The feeling I’ve been trying to avoid.
“I am not jealous of some fucking kid, Stassi. Get a grip.”
“You’re jealous that…he’s my age andnotmy stepfather.”
