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I take a step forward and place my hand on his arm.
"Dad, I promise I'm telling the truth."
After a few moments of him giving me the dad stare-down, he lets out a big huff. "Fine. But I'm telling you once more, Alisha. Never withhold this kind of information from us ever again. Is that clear?"
His stern gaze makes me cringe.
"I just didn't want to ruin your vacation. You two taught me to be strong when things get tough, and I did."
"Good lord, Alisha," my father lets out. "That doesn't count if you're hurt and lying in the hospital. We are your parents. Knowing that we weren't there when you needed us the most is breaking my heart."
My breath hitches when seeing my father's eyes tear up. I've never seen him this emotional. He pulls me into a bear hug and murmurs, "You are our miracle, Alisha."
The sizable lump in my throat hinders me from speaking, so I nod and return the gesture. I glance at my mom, who's wiping away a tear from her cheek. God, they are the most amazing parents one can have. I've never felt so special to call myself a miracle, but I can understand why they say I am. During a check-up, the doctors told my parents my father's swimmers weren't potent enough, and the chance of them conceiving a child naturally would be slim to none. A year later, they were in shock when my mom found out she was pregnant. After I was born, they tried for a second child, but it never happened.
"I love you, Dad."
"Oh, I love you too, sweetheart."
My mom joins our hug. "We love you, Alisha. And we're here for you if you need us, honey."
"Thanks, Mom."
* * *
Sunlight hitsmy retinas as my eyelids flutter open.Oh, god. Is it morning already?I brush my hands over my face and grunt. I’d been tossing and turning the entire night, waking up because I thought I smelled Cole's cologne or heard him say my name in that profound sexy way that makes my toes curl.Even without him being physically close, he haunts me in my dreams.
I push myself up and grab my phone.11:00 a.m.I slide my legs over the edge of my childhood bed and smile as I walk to the sizable picture frame with pictures of myself at different ages and with different stylish outfits. I've always loved fashion.
I slip into the navy blue halter jumpsuit with lace in the front that I brought with me and pull my hair into a low ponytail. After applying some soft matte red lipstick on my lips, I slip my feet into a pair of comfortable leather shoes with two-inch heels. I walk downstairs and find my mother in the kitchen, washing some apples from the garden.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?"
I stroll to the table and drop onto the chair.
"You look lovely, honey. Is that a new outfit you're wearing?"
"Yeah, it is."
My mom chuckles as she sees my face. "You're still not a morning person." After doing her chore, she places a cup of coffee in front of me and takes a seat next to me.
"Where is Dad?"
"He's gone for a run. You know how he needs his workout in the morning."
"Yeah." I squeeze my legs together when my mind fills itself with pictures of Cole working out. I lick my lips, remembering him with low-hanging sweatpants that I wish would drop even lower. My panties dampen thinking about his ripped muscles and broad chest covered in a hue of delicious sweat.Fuck, stop thinking about him.
"Are you okay, honey?" my mom asks. "You look a bit flustered."
I clear my throat. "I'm fine."
"So tell me, sweetheart," she starts, flashing me the type of grin that says she's about to ask something she already knows the answer to. "Are you seeing someone?"
I gaze at my coffee cup and trace the edges with my index finger. "Hm, I don't know."
"Okay, let me rephrase that. Is there a man in your life that you're interested in?"
I keep staring at my fingers.
