What. The. Fuck?
My eyes close slowly, my chin tipping up to the ceiling. My grip on the beer bottle tightens, the muscles in my fingers straining as embarrassment washes over me.
Dammit. What the hell did he do now? How did Autumn get roped into it?
"I'll be right there." I hang up without waiting for Autumn to answer.
My old man has a problem, and I've known for a while. But how do you help someone who doesn't want help? He’s sixty, retired, and not keen on taking advice from his young son.
I go to the kitchen, empty the rest of my beer into the sink, then toss the bottle into the recycling bin, staring at it for a full second and wondering if I could ever be like my dad and have a drinking problem.
Running into my bedroom, I change quickly from my ratty basketball shorts into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, then grab my keys and phone and head out.
I had no intention of telling Autumn about my dad. Guess that desire is out the window. I wonder what she thinks…
* * *
As I pullinto the driveway beside Faith’s car, I kill my lights. From what I can tell in the dark, there is only one person in her car, and my guess is that it’s not Autumn. Something moves in the shadows on the side of the house and I recognize her petite frame.
Climbing from my car, I close the door, heading around the corner.
“Hey,” she says softly as I come near. She’s leaning against the house, blocked from the view of the street, hands tucked in the front pockets of her jeans. A swath of moonlight cuts across her face and I try not to think about how beautiful she is.
“Hi.” I come to a stop a few feet away. “Sorry about my dad.”
She waves me off. “It’s no biggie.”
It is a biggie to me. A huge fuckin’ biggie. Local doctor’s dad becomes the town drunk. It’s embarrassing.
We’re both silent for a full minute and I’m trying to figure out how to get him into the house without her helping when she speaks.
“How long has he had a problem?”
Her question rankles me. I feel defensive, even though I know he needs help. I hate what he’s turned into, and of all people to see it, it’s Autumn…
“You can leave now,” I say, looking out into the distance and avoiding her question. I know she doesn’t want to be here. “I can handle it from here."
"I can't leave, Owen. He's in my car."
Right.
"And I wouldn’t leave you with this alone. Why do you seem mad at me?" A guarded edge has crept into her voice and I hate that she looks hurt on my account. I’ve hurt her enough for ten lifetimes. I don’t intend to do any more of that.
I press the spot at the bridge of my nose and avoid her gaze. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at him. Where did you find him?”
"I met a friend at Orange Peel Brewing Company. Your dad was there … creating a scene. I stepped in because the manager was two seconds away from calling the police."
"What friend?" Of everything she just said, it's the entirely wrong place to focus. I can't help it though. "Have you met someone here already?" I’m completely shocked by the jealously lacing through my voice.
She balks. "What does it matter to you if I have?"
"It doesn't." The lie burns my teeth as I tell it.
"I didn't think so.” She crosses her arms and steps closer to me, bringing the heat of her body with her. “Besides, you're the one who went running the other night when your phone rang. Someone hasyouon a short leash."
I’ll be dammed. Autumn Cummings is jealous. This one shred of information does crazy things to my stomach. Could we pick up where we left off? Would it be that simple? No, but it was proof that everything wasn’t dead between us.
"What does it matter to you?" A sly grin pulls at my lips and her gaze sharpens like an eagle ready to hunt.
