Page 30 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad
"I'm sorry if that hurts you, but I was clear from the start about how this would work."
"That you were."
His jaw ticked as if he didn't like my answer. Perhaps I had a bit of an attitude, but I didn't like being reminded that I didn't mean anything more than a few days of physical pleasure.
"Considering we never met through Lindsay before, I imagine we won’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” The words came out as if he was stating a fact, but behind the words, I heard a warning to avoid him.
Inside, my heart felt heavy, but on the outside, I did my best to stand strong and act like this whole thing was nothing to me either. "It's not going to be a problem avoiding you at all."
He studied me for a moment, and I began to think that he worried that I might have a crush on him, that I might seek more from him.
"You don't have to worry, Brett. I'm not going to go join a gym or lurk outside your house. I've got bigger goals and more important things in my life than pining for you. I've got a semester to finish and then graduation and then getting a job."
His eyes flashed with something that I couldn't decipher. It couldn't have been pain because I was telling him exactly what he wanted to hear.
I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "I should get going."
"How about some coffee? I can put it in a to-go cup."
"That's all right. I can stop on the way. Besides, if I have your cup, then I’ll have to return it to you, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?" I turned and headed to the door.
He was behind me in a few strides. "Let me help you with your bags."
I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to end being near him at this very moment. But instead, I let him help me put my bags into my car. I got into the driver’s seat and he stood by the open door.
"The roads are clear, but that doesn't mean they're not a little slick, so be careful."
"I will."
He continued to stand blocking my door, looking at me. I wondered if there was something he wanted to say. All sorts of words were flitting through my brain, but nothing I could say out loud.
A moment later, he gave another curt nod. "I wish you all the best in your life, Miranda."
"Thank you." I tugged on the door, and he stepped away from it so I could shut it. The finality of the goodbye in his words brought tears to my eyes, but I fought them. Instead, I started my car, carefully maneuvering down his driveway as I headed back out toward the main road.
I wanted to regret what happened between us because the feelings that it brought now were so heavy. At the same time, I was grateful for the last couple of days. I experienced things I didn't imagine I'd ever experience. Oh, sure, someday, I'd meet somebody else and probably get married and have kids, but it was hard to imagine there would be the intensity that had been between me and Brett. I suppose your first love never leaves you.
11
Brett
Ifought myself the entire morning to keep from asking Miranda to stay. Even as her car drove away, a part of me wanted to run after her, bring her back, and spend yet another day buried in her delicious body. The woman had a crazy hold on me and it pissed me off. Because she was wreaking havoc on me, she had to go. Goodbye. Adios. It would be the only way to break whatever spell I'd been ensnared in.
Frustrated, I stomped back into the house, slamming the door behind me. I stood for a moment, unsure what to do next. It was still morning, but I strode into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of scotch and pouring myself two fingers. After downing the glass of potent liquid, I decided I’d take a day to myself. Get my shit together. As I started toward the living room and as I passed by the French doors, I looked outside to the hot tub. A vision of Miranda riding me swept through my mind.
I growled at the annoying memory and headed to the living room, but she was there as well. Jesus fuck. I couldn’t escape her. I pulled out my phone and called Lindsay.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you on Christmas, Dad,” she said when she answered.
Holy shit. I hadn't thought to call her, either. It was another reminder of how deeply I’d fallen into Miranda. I scraped my hand over my face. "It's all right, sweetheart. I'm calling to find out if you have any plans to come up. Otherwise, I'm closing up the house."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I don't have much more time off. Maybe we can go up in a couple of weeks?"
Feeling like a shitty father for not being more attentive the last few days, I asked, "Is everything alright with you?"
"Yes, of course." There was nothing in her tone to suggest that she was lying. "I heard about the snow. Are you okay?”
“Everything is fine.”
