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“Good. Well?”
I glare at him. “You don’t want to go there with me.”
He laughs coldly.
“Sweetheart, I have a doctorate in shitty parents. And if you’re expecting me to answer anything else, you’re going to need to pony up first. Question for question. That’s how this’ll work.”
Bastard.
But I shrug as I smile casually. “Fine, whatever. What’s your question?”
“How old were you when your old man dipped out.”
“Zero. I wasn’t born yet. He and my mom…” I clear my throat. “I don’t think they exactly knew each other well.”
“What do you wager, bar bathroom? Back seat of a Nissan?”
“Gross?”
“Everyone’s thought about it.”
“I cannot begin to tell you how wrong you are.”
He shrugs, knocking back more of his whiskey.
“Did you ever meet him later? I mean when you were older.”
“I thought this was question for question?”
“Youreallylike rules, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes at his smug grin.
“Well?”
“No; never.”
I sigh as I look away, shaking my head.
“I mean he wrote me these letters for a while, where he’d call me Prudence—”
My mouth slams shut as my body jolts in horror. Why thefuckdid I just willingly volunteer any of that information to Jackson? I mean here we are playing verbal chess, and I’m giving him moves.
“LikeDear Prudence?”
“Forget it.”
“You’re the one that brought it—”
“Well let’s pretend I didn’t,” I snap. “My turn?”
He shrugs. “Have at it.”
“Do you think you have a problem?”
His brows lift.
“I do. But it seemed cruel to leave her outside during all of this weather.”
