“I’ll take your word for it. You look…”Relaxed. Radiant.“Like you had a good time.”
“I did. It was lucky we bumped into them, wasn’t it?”
I smile innocently. “Very lucky.” And then, to avoid accidentally setting her off, as I so often do, I say, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got to be at work early, and I’m beat.”
“Night, Piper.”
I pinch myself on the way to my room. That conversation—this whole night—feels like a dream I’m going to lurch out of any second.
I turn back to glance at my sister before closing my door. She sets her book down to pick up her phone. Her brows draw together in concentration before her expression eases into a broad smile. In all the years she’s been my guardian, in all theyears she’s managed the Towers, I’ve never seen her regard her phone with anything but disdain.
She’s texting Davis—she has to be.
I close my door with a quiet click, then fall backward onto my bed.
I grin up at the ceiling.
I’mfree.
Henry
My dad’s in the apartment when I get there, lounging on the couch in front of a baseball game that’s broadcasting from theWest Coast, brew in hand.
“What’s up, buddy?” He lifts his bottle like he’s toasting me.
“Not a lot,buddy. How was your night?”
“Damn good, my boy. Damn good.”
I quell a shudder, ready for him to launch into a gag-inducing description of how sexy he thinks Tati is. Instead, he asks, “Where’d you run off to?”
“Putt-putt. Piper won.”
He laughs, then takes a pull of his beer. He’s swapped his street clothes for sweats and an old T-shirt. I like this version of him: laid back, trying, but nottoohard. “What’s she like?” he asks. “Other than wild, like Tati says.”
I fall onto the couch. “She’s cool.”
“Smart as you?”
“Yep. Tough too.”
“’Cause of what happened to her mom and dad?”
Tati’s talked with him about her parents—interesting.
“I guess that probably has a lot to do with it,” I say.
“You round the bases yet?”
Ahh, there’s Davis.
“Jesus, Dad. Really?”
He downs what’s left of his beer, then sets the empty on the coffee table. “Just curious. Should’ve known you’re not one to kiss and tell.”
“No, I’m not.” Even if I was, I wouldn’t tellhim.
“Don’t get pissy,” he says, reaching across the couch to jostle my shoulder. “I was just making conversation. Keep your secrets if you want. Just know that I wanna talk if you do.”
