“You don’t call him my dad,” I say.
Anger burns in those blue eyes. “Because he doesn't deserve to be called that.”
I purse my lips, not knowing if I want to agree with him or not.
It’s late in the evening, and we’re parked at the end of the block, with a clear view of my house. The lights are on, and shadows dance behind the curtains drawn at every window. They’re both home.
Nerves hit me, and I can’t stop the tremors that race down my leg, all the way to my foot, which starts tapping on the floor.
Heath notices and puts his hand on my leg and presses hard. “Rose.”
I can’t make myself look at him. All I keep staring at is that house. My home.
“What will happen if I go in there?”
His hand tenses on my leg, and his gaze bores deep into the side of my face.
“I don’t know. That man is home so the outcome would probably be bad.”
I know what he means.
Clawing deep through me, I look for enough courage to face the wrath of my father when I walk in through the door.
I don’t find it because he truly terrifies me.
“Baby,” Heath calls, rubbing soothing circles on my thigh.
I avert my gaze from the house and look into his beautiful eyes that resemble a calm sea.
“I don’t think you should go in there,” he says.
I let out a shake breath and press a hand to my heart. “But…”
“We’ll come back later when he’s not home and you can talk to your mom alone.”
I nod, because if I go in there right now, I don’t think I’d make it out safe. Dad will hurt me or Mom for some stupid reason, and I can’t risk that. Besides, I don’t think I can stand still when he looks at me with those dark, evil eyes. That stare makes my skin crawl and heart race.
“Let’s go somewhere,” Heath grabs my hand and laces our fingers together.
“Okay,” I muster up a tiny smile and he leans over and kisses me.
I relax into him and ease up the tension swirling through my body.
With our joined hands on my thigh, he drives with the hand on the wheel, and music plays softly in the background. It’s a song by Chase Atlantic, one of his favorite bands.
Pulling my feet up, I curl up on the seat and watch him drive. He’s in full control, and his precision at making turns and smoothly switching lanes makes him look incredibly hot.
It takes me a minute to notice that he’s aimlessly driving around and not going anywhere specific.
I don’t say a word.
The quiet hum of the engine, the faint hint of his cologne and and the peaceful atmosphere in the car help me relax.
Before I know, I’m thinking of anything but home — it moves somewhere in the back of my head.
Heath is all I can focus on. He consumes my thoughts and senses.
He’s wearing a pure black hoodie, and he looks so good in it.
