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Yeah right. I know he’s lying. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you just tell me that last week when I asked?”
He lifts his shoulder, taking another drag. “Because you shouldn’t be worrying about what I do … Sometimes I think you forget who the parent is.”
“I understand you’re my father, but as for a parent …” I suck in a breath. “Look, Dad, I’m eighteen now, and honestly, I’ve been taking care of myself and Londyn, Bailey, and Payton for years, so you may be our dad by blood, but as for the parent of this household, that’s my job.”
His lips part then shut. Then he shakes his head and storms toward the stairway. “I don’t have time to argue with you, Hadley. I’m going to be late for work.” He starts down the stairway, but then pauses and glances over his shoulder at me. “I’m going to be home late, but …” He scratches the back of his neck. “Do you guys want to meet me someplace for dinner?”
I stare at him, unsure if I heard him correctly. “You want us to go out to dinner with you?”
He nods, his arm falling to his side. “Yeah, I thought it might be nice to go out as a family. We haven’t done that in a while, right?” He tries for a smile “It might be nice.”
While the gesture is nice of him, we haven’t had a family dinner with him in over eight years, and I really doubt any of my sisters are going to want to. Plus, with everything going on, I think it might be best to distance ourselves away from Dad.
He must read my hesitation all over my face, because he says, “Come on. Please say yes. I feel like I haven’t talked to you girls in forever.”
That’s because he hasn’t. Not about anything other than when our next move is.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he adds, popping the end of his half-smoked cigarette into his mouth. “I’ll text you the address of the place later, okay?” Then he hurries down the stairway before I can decline his offer.
Sighing heavily, I turn for the bathroom. Between dealing with Blaise this morning and my dad tonight, it’s going to be a tough day.
* * *
Sometimes when I’mhaving a bad day, I visualize myself graduating and being handed my diploma. Then I say goodbye to my sisters, hop into my car, and drive off to college without so much as a second glance back. Today, though, the images aren’t bringing me as much comfort, and I think I know why.
Between the almost-skid-off-the-road incident yesterday and that bag being in the backyard, I’m not feeling the whole peace-out-old-life vibe. No, before I could ever leave, I’d have to make sure my dad hasn’t … well, I’m not certain how to finish that sentence.
Needless to say, by the time I stroll up to Blaise’s front door, I’m past being irritated and breezing right into don’t-mess-with-me-because-I’m-pissed-off-at-my-shithead-father territory, something Blaise notices the second he opens the door.
“Wow, somebody doesn’t look very happy to be here,” he remarks, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded.
Strangely, his stupid smirk isn’t present. Not strange, he’s dressed in black pants and a matching T-shirt. Seriously, it’s like the Porterson brothers’ trademark look.
“Can we please just cut the small talk and get straight to whatever the hell it is you want me to do?” I bite out bitterly.
He straightens, adjusting the leather bands covering his wrists. “Will you relax? I’m not going to have you do anything bad.”
“I highly doubt that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “And besides, who said my bad mood has anything to do with you?”
A pucker forms between his brows. “You act like I’d be upset me if it wasn’t about me.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t get off on pissing me off.”
He rubs his lips together, wrestling back a smile. “Okay, maybe I do get off on it a little.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you do. I knew that from the moment I met you.”
“That I’d get off on pissing you off?” His amusement magnifies.
“No, that you’re the kind of guy who gets off on pissing girls off.”
His smile dissolves. “That’s not who I am at all.”
“Liar.” Sure, I may have discovered last night he didn’t slash my tires or put up those flyers, but that doesn’t erase the times he’s purposely tried to grate under my skin. “You’re totally the type of guy to get off on getting girls riled up. I can tell.”
He shakes his head, strands of blond hair falling into his pretty eyes. Why does he have to be so pretty. It’s annoying.
“Nope. I actually just do it with you,” he says.
