“Sit,” I tell Holt. “I’ll put Jessica out.”
We haven’t texted all day since my message to him that we have to talk.
It’s been so much more fun to sit in the panic and anxiety mixed with the howling outrage that a guy I like is completely and totally off-limits.
Someday I need to learn to immediately deal with my problems head-on. That’s apparently not today though.
He watches me warily. “Because you don’t want witnesses, or because you don’t want to scare the dog?”
“I’m not mad.”
Jessica barks.
“I’m not,” I tell her. “I’d like a glass of wine and I’m irritated that I can’t have one, but I’m not mad.”
She rolls her eyes like she’s disappointed in me.
As if I’m missing my chance to take out all of my feelings on a man.
“You need therapy,” I tell her.
She grins.
I hustle her through the kitchen and onto the porch, then toss three doggy treats into the yard for her. After I make sure she has enough water in her outside bowl, I prop thedoor open so that she can come in if she gets too hot, and I head back inside.
And yes, I’m taking entirely too long.
I don’t want to have this conversation. I want to go back to this morning, to when he asked me on a date and I felt like someone who had a beautiful new life ahead of me instead of someone who’s actually been living in a situation that could fuck everything up for a lot of people.
Holt’s waiting for me in the living room, still standing, when I get back.
“Would youpleasesit down?”
“I’m gonna move in with Fletcher and Goldie for a while.”
“That’s ridiculous. This is your house. I’ll leave.”
“You can’t leave. You know what’s worse than having Keating’s daughter?—”
“Stepdaughter, technically.”
He’s not amused. “What’s worse than havingyouliving in my house? It looking like I kicked you out. That’s worse. You stay. The dog likes you. The house likes you. You stay. As long as you want.”
Funny thing—I wasn’t mad before.
Surprised.
Mildly horrified as I realized how my dad would take this.
Worried about how fast I could—or couldn’t—fix it.
Angry thatI freaking like himand I can’t do anything about it.
But now?
Now I’m mad.
I’m mad because the man should want to live in his own house and he’s just rolling over and giving it to me because he’s afraid of what my dad will do to him.
