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And it was another thing my father was trying to steal from me.
I threw the duvet off. Three in the morning. Sleep was a lost cause. My hand hurt. And if I had to be alone with my thoughts one more second, I’d go mad.
I wanted Cal. I wanted him to make me forget all of it.
“Argh.” I switched on the bedside lamp.
No. I hated . . . I hated what he’d done. Hated how he made me feel. Hated that I needed him. But I didn't hate him anymore. How could I after he so fiercely defended me tonight?
It wasn’t supposed to go that way.
It was only physical.
You think you are so tough, Beau. But you’re a fool. Did you really believe you could let him touch you and come out unscathed?
Yes. Yes I had.
And then he’d opened up about his dad. For Cal to say anything was the equivalent of him spilling his guts. The man had meant everything to him. The hurt that radiated from him had done something to me. Made me feel something other than anger toward him.
“Pop,there’s somebody I want you to meet.”
Garrett slung an arm around me. I blinked in surprise at him and the older version who’d just stepped onto the rooftop.
“This is Beau.”
The man grinned. “I wondered who’d been taking up so much of my son’s time.” He ate up the distance between us in a few long strides and held out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Beau.”
Slowly, I placed my hand in his. He gave it a squeeze. A fatherly one. Not that I knew what that was like from experience. The gesture felt warm and kind.
“Beau, this is my pop.” There was so much pride in Garrett’s voice. Respect. Love.
It was palpable.
“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Calhoun.” There was a slight tremble to my words.
Garrett and I had been sneaking around so long. We had an understanding that it was better all-around to keep our relationship a secret.
He talked so much about his dad—his whole family, really—that something strange formed inside me. Garrett had introduced me to one of the most important people in his life.
We hadn’t figured out a way to move forward, but if this didn’t mean he wanted to, I had no idea what would.
“You must be a pretty special lady if he’s shared this spot with you.” He winked at his son.
My father had never done that to me.
Garrett squeezed my shoulder, a silent agreement.
“It’s become one of my favorites.” My cheeks got hot. I wasn’t shy, but I was out of my element. What if his dad didn’t like me?
“It’s one of mine too.” He clapped Garrett’s shoulder. “Don’t tell your mother I got to meet your girl first. I’ll never hear the end of it,” he said affectionately.
His girl.
We’d fit so naturally that I never thought about titles or status when it came to our relationship.
I like that.
His girl. It fit. Because I was.
