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“Give whatup?”
“Maggie.” He leveled me with his ice-blues. “Whatever it is you’re trying not to say, but we both know you’re gonna tell meeventually.”
Right.
I cleared my throat, got brave, and let it bleed. “I talked to himtonight.”
“Who?”
“Mydad.”
“Shit.” Zane tensed like he’d been punched in the gut, pitching forward in his chair and leaning on his knees. “Fuck. I shoulda known. You should’ve told me,Maggs.”
Ishrugged.
Yeah, I should’ve known too. I should’ve known better than to drop my dad’s name at the front desk when I was hoping to score an extra room. I’d considered just getting a room elsewhere, but I really didn’t have the time if I wanted to hook up with Coop, and I totally did. Besides that, I needed to be close if anyone needed me. It nauseated me to do it, but I was desperate… as one of the owners of this tacky-ass hotel, he was my only hope. But I’d coughed that shit up for nothing. The hotel was still fully booked, and by the time the woman at the desk confirmed that with him via text, I heard his gravelly voice. I turned around to find a tall, blond, aging rock star standing behind me—mydad.
I’d hoped I could avoid him while we were in town, even though we were staying in hishotel.
No such fuckingluck.
“What the fuck did he do this time?” Zane demanded, his voice going scary-low, stone cold murder flashing in his eyes as he read myface.
“Oh, you know,” I said vaguely. “Dizzy has a way of making me feel extra special aboutmyself.”
“You really gotta stop talking tohim.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, and I meant it. But I’d never do it. Totally cut off mydad.
He was mydad.
Even though he was a royaldouche.
“I’m so gonna kill that dude one day,” Zane muttered, almost to himself, as he flexed his fist and cracked hisknuckles.
“I really wish youwould.”
He grinned at me, that heart-stopping, swoon-inducing grin, all beautiful, badass Viking with a side of cocky rock star, and I reached over and poked hisknee.
“Seriously. Don’t go all stabby on me, okay? I don’t wanna have to explain that shit toDolly.”
Just what we allneeded.
I’d already had to spring the man from jail enough times in my life. Not that he’d ever done anythingthatbad. No, Zane Traynor’s rap sheet was a colorful list of minor offenses with descriptive words like “indecency,” “disorderly” and “lewd.” But the mention of his grandma, Dolly, the sweetest woman on Earth and the one who’d raised him after his parents checked out, made himsoften.
“Okay.” He settled back in his chair. “No violence. For now. Tell me what the world’s greatest dad had tosay.”
Oh,shit.
Here I was complaining about my dad for being a douche, but at least my dad had beensomewhatpresent in my life. Unlike Zane’s, who’d been a raging alcoholic, ditched out on him when he was a toddler, and then gone ahead anddied.
“Shit, Zane. Never mind. Let’s just forget it. He’s not worth talking aboutanyway.”
“Maggie,” he said, his eyes locked on mine with a casual air of command. “You can tell me what happened with your dad, or I can come over there and fuck you senseless, and then you can tell me what happened with your dad. Either way, you’re telling me what happened with yourdad.”
Holy Jesus. Were those myoptions?
No. Definitely not the come-over-there-and-fuck-youthing.
