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Brunch, for fuck’s sake. Who the hell does brunch?
Assholes like Jarrod do, which does not bode well for this meetup.
My boyfriend was beaming. “He must be rolling in it if he’s taking us there.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
Talking has been basically impossible since I found out I’m seeing my dad. If I manage to switch my brain off, then I can laugh with the guys and hang like everything’s normal, but the second it hits me again, my mouth snaps shut, and all I can do is stare at the wall and obsess over the fact that I’m about to come face-to-face with my father.
I vacillate from anger to fear to excitement. It’s such a weird roller-coaster ride, and I’m less than twenty minutes away from finally looking that man in the eye. What do I even want to say to him?
Part of me wants to scream in his face for abandoning me, maybe punch him in the balls and watch him fall.
But then another part of me just wants to ask him why. Ask him how he could have walked away from his daughters so easily.
The thought makes my throat swell, and my nose starts tingling as I shove my feet into my comfiest pair of Converses.
Ethan eyes me from the bed, and when I spin with a challenging glare, he closes his mouth against whatever he was about to say. Probably something along the lines of“You know this place is pretty high class, right?”
Instead, he smiles, his gaze softening with this look that always makes me feel like I’m the only girl in his world. “You look great.”
And I nearly change again.
He’s standing there like a freaking supermodel in his black jeans and button-down shirt. The leather jacket he’s pulling on is enough to make my lady parts water, and I momentarily hate myself for being so damn attracted to him.
It makes it impossible to stay mad. Especially when he says sweet shit like wanting what’s best for me.
Dammit! Why does he have to be so perfect?
Fisting my trembling fingers, I snatch my phone and shove it into my pocket.
Ethan swings open his bedroom door, and I eye the space I need to walk through. It suddenly seems like the entrance to some dark, haunted cave that’s going to swallow me whole and spit out my bones.
“Bummer.” I let out a shaky laugh. “My legs have stopped working. I guess I can’t go after all.”
Ethan huffs, looks up to the ceiling as if he’s calling on a higher power to give him patience, then reaches me in two strides. Without a word, he lifts me into his arms and carries me down the stairs like I’m a princess.
I frown at him the whole way, but he ignores me, not setting me down until we’ve reached his Ranger.
“I’ll carry you into that restaurant if I have to,” he warns me, plucking me off the ground and even pulling the seat belt over me.
“I can do it.” I snatch the belt off him and buckle myself in, fuming as he walks around the truck. I can’t believe he’s making me do this.
Crossing my arms and slumping down in my seat, I don’t say a word to him as we drive into town. He finds a parking spot right outside the restaurant, and my insides start clenching all over again.
I seriously don’t think I can do this. But then Ethan opens my door, takes my hand, and pulls me into the restaurant. By some miracle my legs carry me through those doors, and I spot my dad immediately. He’s already waiting for us, fidgeting with his watch, checking the time, then straightening the cutlery in front of him. He adjusts the wineglass, then looks toward the entrance… and goes still.
His eyes light with recognition as we weave around the tables, and by the time we reach his spot, he’s standing and staring at me with tear-filled eyes.
“Mickey Blue.” He chokes out the nickname he used to call me, and my insides crumple as an earthquake of emotion rips me in half. “Look at you. So grown-up. So beautiful.”
He’s struggling to talk as tears spill out of his eyes.
I don’t know what to do with myself, and if it wasn’t for Ethan’s reassuring hand on my lower back, I think I would have just stood there like a statue for the rest of the day.
“Please, sit.” Dad motions to the chairs opposite him, and we take a seat.
Grabbing my menu, I flip it open, needing something to do. My eyes scan the selection, all fancy words written in a fancy font that’s barely legible. I’m not taking any of it in.
