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“Visaid you should be here?” I sink into the cushioned chair behind me.
He’s back to staring at the messy blankets, his shoulders shaking. “That boy—”
“Pays more attention to me than you do.” I grip the arms of the chair. “Go home. You dropped out of my life a long time ago.” The seventeen-year-old in me gives him a defiant look, claiming her right to make her own choices. The little girl in me holds her breath, desperate for her daddy to yell at her, ground her, anything to show he cares.
But he doesn’t do any of those things. He rubs a hand over his head, walks to the door and pulls it open, looking over his shoulder with a heavy sigh on his way out.
As if I need one more reminder I’m not worth the effort.
chapter 52
Gabe
“If you’re going to make bad decisions, don’t get caught.”
~ Meredith Morgan
(played by the award-winning Meredith Wade)
Raising Ryder: Episode172
The shotgun-dad deal isn’t making my top hundred of experiences to repeat.
Getting caught with a girl in my bed is new. I’ve lived with guys from the show since I was fifteen. As long as we showed on the right side of call time and didn’t screw off too much on set, the adults were too busy juggling their own after hours to waste time being parental.
I balance my hip on the railing in the empty stairwell listening to the rain fall on the roof and jam on one shoe. Tie it. Jerk on the other.
Trevor Gray is Jess’s dad.
Trevor Gray hates me.
Trevor Gray is definitely not signing his books for me.
And forget about him trusting me with his daughter.
I don’t think telling him Jess was the first girl to leave my bed still clothed will get me invited for dinner. Neither will sharing her bunched-up tankini rules. The possibility of being driven out of her life revs my heart, shifting the beats straight into fifth, stripping gears along the way. I tie my other shoe, then take the steps two at a time toward the lobby to get her tea. Which is about the only thing I can do for her.
One floor down, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I stop and scramble to catch the call, leaning against the wall. “Hey.” I purposely smooth the edges from my voice in case Jess needs an eye-of-the-storm moment.
“Gabe!” The distinct male voice that sinks my chest? So not my girl. Alan has one setting—piercing. His voice resonates through the stairwell, and he’s not even on speaker.
Wincing, I crank down the volume and shove the phone between my shoulder and my ear. “Yep.”
“We’re launching Jax’s marketing campaign with your reconciliation with Kim. She offered to fly out for an interview.”
“Today’s not good.” Understatement of the century. “I’m coming back Tuesday. Schedule it then.” Or never.
“You’re on my clocknow.”
My heart pulses in my ears in a distincttick, tick, tick. Because I know whatever he says next is totally gonna blow.
“Kim’s already on a plane. When she lands, she’ll text you.”
The explosion rocks my chest. “I haven’t signed the contract yet.”
“Are you officially turning down the show’s offer?” Not a question. A twist-to-the balls reminder that if I do sign, for the next year anytime he screamsjump!I get to askwhere?
But acting’s all I’ve known. I have no other skills. And it’s not like a job at Target will float Mom’s bills.
