The stairs creak as we walk down them together, and for one goddamn second, I allow myself to feel it.The potential that could exist between us if she weren’t so busy hating me.If I wasn’t so good at fucking things up.
Then I see him.
Her dad.
Posted up at the bottom of the staircase like a fucking guard dog.Arms crossed, face hard, gaze locked only on me.
His eyes drag over me, as if he’s waiting for me to slip.I feel that stare settle into my bones.That distrust, that barely concealed hate.He doesn’t see a guy trying to help his daughter with schoolwork.He sees a walking screw-up, a threat with a hard-on.
I keep my chin up.I won’t give him the satisfaction.I’ve taken hits harder than a pissed-off dad.Still, it doesn’t stop the cold, low burn from crawling up my spine.The kind that reminds me of where I stand and what kind of guy I’ll always be in his eyes.
Sam stiffens next to me.She remains silent as she walks over and opens the front door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Reece, and thanks for coming by today.”
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak, not with her dad staring at me as if I’m something he scraped off his boot.
The door clicks shut behind me.I adjust the strap on my shoulder, ready to leave, when Sam’s voice breaks through the silence.
“Are you serious right now?You stood there judging him as if he were nothing.”
I stop without meaning to.
“He is nothing, Samantha,” her dad snaps.“You think I don’t see the way he looks at you?That kid is trouble.I won’t have him dragging you down.”
My jaw locks.No surprise there.Same verdict.Different day.
“You don’t know him,” she fires back.
“No, but I know his type,” her dad says.“And his type never changes.”
“That’s bullshit,” she shoots back.
Her dad finally says, “I don’t trust him.”
“That sounds more like a you problem,” Sam snaps.“Not a him problem.”
Fuck.
I don’t wait to hear more.I walk fast and hard, my boots hitting the pavement with too much force.
The street’s quiet when I hit the curb, just the buzz of streetlights and the distant bark of a dog.Porch lights flicker on like little spotlights, reminding me how many people are safe in their homes, loved and wanted.
Anger quietly simmers in my gut, sharp and bitter.
The way he looked at me was as if I were filth dragged in on her shoes.Another adult dismissing me with a glance.A man who sees nothing in me worth a second chance.
I should be used to it.But I’m not, because tonight she stood there defending me.Someone as good as Sam could believe in someone like me after everything I’ve done and still see something worth standing up for.
I want to be that fucking guy.
The one she sees when she smiles.The kind of smile she gave me tonight without thinking.Soft.Unafraid.Pure fucking sunlight slicing through all the crap I carry.
I want to be the one who maintains her gaze when the world becomes harsh.The one who doesn’t flinch when her father looks at him like he’s dirt.
I want to be enough for the girl with fire in her voice and courage in her spine—the one who made me feel seen for the first time in years.
Chapter 17
