I didn’t need to tell my dad who I was worried about. He figured it out. When he came to me with a list of doctors and an alias already set up for her to use, he told me to do whatever I thought was best for Zara, even if she hated me for it. Letting me know he knew exactly who I was trying to help.
The thing is, I don’t need to do anything for Zara to hate me. It seems she’s doing that for no fucking reason right now. We haven’t spoken about that night in the car. She refuses to really talk to me. She did acknowledge it today, though. She’d said something about nearly hurting me. Which tells me she cares. If she didn’t, the fact that I was in the car wouldn’t have bothered her the way it has.
Dad:
She okay?
Me:
She bought some preppy douche to the party.
Dad:
You okay?
I look up and see Aurora approaching me, her asshole boyfriend behind her. Just what this night needs, a dose of fucking insanity in the form of a Valentino.
Me:
Yes. Aurora just walked in.
Dad:
Valentino?
Me:
You know another one?
I pocket my phone, as I watch Aurora walk right for me. “How’d you manage to get out?” I ask her.
“I have my ways.” She smirks and then wraps her arms around me before stepping back. “What’s the deal with you and Zara?”
“There is no deal with me and Zara,” I insist.
“Yeah? Does your face know that?” She laughs.
Shaking my head, I stare at Zara and that fucking prick she’s got hanging off her.
Aurora follows my line of sight. “Who is he?” she asks.
“Who?” I glance in her direction.
“The guy she’s talking to.”
“No fucking idea. Never seen him before,” I grunt. It’s the truth. I’ve never seen the fucker before.
“Okay. You two catch up. I’ll be right back.” Aurora goes to walk off when her boyfriend stops her.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Relax. Have a drink. Ares will have the good stuff. I’ll be right back,” she tells him.
I glance at Connor. He looks like a lost puppy wanting to follow right along behind her. Surprisingly, he doesn’t. “You know, if Aurora says she’s doing nothing, she’s definitely doing something.”
“I know who my girlfriend is.” He glares at me.
“Cool. She’s right, you know.” Bending down, I pick up an unopened bottle of Cinque, the whiskey my father and uncles make. “I do have the good stuff.”
