“The rumour mill is correct for once. Mark that down in the calendar.”
Spencer brushes Kendrick’s shoulder with his own. “Where’s the teacher? Jericho said you took him with you. Bold.”
“It wasn’t entirely intentional,” Hunter says. “He insisted. He’s gone home now. Six and Moira are watching him.”
“Too much for him?”
Hunter does a one-shoulder shrug. “Perhaps.”
There’s no “perhaps” about it. Only time will tell if he’ll come back. He asked for our world, and he got it. Be careful what you wish for and all that.
Hunter places his hands on Olivia’s shoulders, squeezing. “Vee, I’d like you to meet some people.”
She tilts her head, looking so much like Hunter it’s beautiful. They may not be of blood, but they’re so similar it would be difficult to tell. “Hello.”
Neither Miles nor I respond. What do I say to even begin making up for my absence?
“This is Miles,” Hunter follows up, allowing us our silence. “He’s a… friend, and he’s helping me with an important job.”
She nods seriously. “You better keep Daddy safe.”
Smart girl. I doubt Hunter shares specifics, but she knows he isn’t like other dads. I know he got her out of the state when the issues with Sebastian arose. I’ll never atone for that mistake. Just another nail to add to my coffin. What’s one more?
“I will,” Miles says with complete sincerity.
“Vee, this is Xavier.” He bends and kisses the top of her head. “You’ve never met him, but you know him.”
“I do?”
She does?
“He sends you flowers every week.”
I do?
Her lips part instantly, eyes widening. Her little hands clench at her sides. “You send the flowers.”
That part is true, at least. I don’t know what to do with the fact that he’s been giving those to her all these years. And that she knows who I am. Why would he do that?
I glance at Hunter before replying, “Yes.” He gives nothing away, allowing space to breathe.
“You’re my dad.”
I shouldn’t be surprised by how direct she is. Hunter doesn’t dance around the hard questions; I couldn’t expect different from his daughter.
“One of them.” Through DNA only. Hunter will always be her father. Herrealfather.
She squints at me, like she’s trying to see underneath. I can guarantee she doesn’t want to see that.
“You have my nose,” she declares, wrinkling hers.
“I believeyouhavemine,” I say. “I had mine first.”
She puts a hand on her hip, unimpressed. “Why didn’t you come see me? I haven’t been naughty.”
Jesus. “No, you haven’t.” She’s Hunter’s daughter. She’s fucking perfect. “But I have.”
She twists her lips, thinking. “Did you say sorry? Dad says if you do something wrong, you should apple-gize.”
