Chapter 17 #2
His attention flicked back to mine. Pale grey eyes looked on in only the way a parent’s can do. As if they already knew your secrets, already knew what you were thinking and were waiting for you to come out and say it.
‘Maybe when you stop by you can tell me more about this girl.’
I consistently make the mistake of over sharing with my father.
Each week, I called and filled him in on my life and asked what he’s been up to.
Growing up, Dad had always felt like a safe place.
He let me vent about anything and everything, offering grunts and soft hugs when I needed them.
He rarely voiced his opinion unless I asked.
So when I went to pick up Rosie that very first night and saw her drunk and sad, the following day when my dad called, everything spilled out.
Everything I’d kept firmly close to my chest. All those feelings that I’d sworn to bury at all costs.
I scratched the back of my neck. ‘It’s uh—’
‘Bad time?’ A lyrical voice called from behind me.
As if the mere thought had conjured her out of thin air, Rosie stood a few feet away, dressed in a warm navy coat over a pair of ripped jeans.
Her hair pulled back into a messy bun, several strands falling out to frame her face.
Once again, my dick failed to read the room.
All it thought about was the way she felt pressed against my body that night and how it had been far too long since her lips had been on mine.
She was here. Looking at me with a quizzical quirk of her brow, the longer I stayed silent.
‘What are you doing here?’ I blurted out.
Her brow arched in surprise. ‘You say the sweetest things to me sometimes.’
‘I didn’t mean it like—I just meant—’ Words weren’t supposed to be so fucking difficult.
A warm hand came to rest on my arm. ‘Let me jump in there and stop you digging that hole any deeper, lad,’ Dad said, stepping around me and holding out his hand to Rosie, whose entire face lit up as she saw him.
‘Peter Blake, you must be the girl he’s told me all about.’
She shook his hand, eyes bright and happy as she laughed.
Great. There was a God and apparently I’d done something to royally piss him off.
Rosie shot me a quick glance. ‘As long as he’s told you nothing but good things, then yes, it’s definitely me.’
Dad chuckled. ‘Trust me, lass, he can’t stop talking about you.’
I held up my hands. ‘Okay, the ground clearly isn’t listening to my plea and swallowing me whole, so let’s put a pin in this conversation, shall we?’
Rosie threaded her arm into my dad’s, like they’d been best friends for years. He was still several inches taller than her and the grin that spread over his face matched the mischief on hers. ‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s so much fun watching you blush.’
My gaze was steady as I stared at her. Conveying all the ways that I would most definitely pay her back for that comment. My cock jolted as the only ways that sprung to mind were all filthy. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, reading exactly where my mind had travelled.
When my dad cleared his throat, splashing some much needed cold water on our eye-fucking, Rosie’s smiled faded.
‘Don’t mind me,’ he said with a grin.
‘You told me to meet you here, remember?’ she said. ‘I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d completely forgotten that I’d scheduled another date.
We’d organised it over text a couple of days ago.
In an effort to show Rosie that some romantic gestures weren’t all vomit inducing, I’d decided to take her on a picnic.
And it gave me the opportunity to feed her something other than the cardboard noodles she insisted on eating.
I pulled out my phone and sure enough, the phone calls I’d thought were from my brother, had been from her.
‘Fuck, I’m sorry. I forgot.’
A thin smile stretched on her closed lips. ‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll head back to work.’
Yes, it didn’t matter, a great fucking deal.
‘Where were you two off to then? If my dear son hadn’t had a lapse in his memory.’
‘Lunch,’ I said, not wanting to divulge all the romantic shit I had planned in front of my dad. Rosie’s smile stayed forced.
‘Well,’ Dad started, fixing me with a sharp stare. ‘Why don’t I be incredibly forward and suggest we all go to lunch?’
This is not how I saw today going. My mouth opened. ‘Um—’
‘That’s a great plan,’ Rosie said, cutting me off and squaring her shoulders. That glint in her eye was back. ‘How many stories about George do you think you can tell me in one hour?’
I glowered, earning me a wry smile from the blonde pixie clutching my dad’s jacket.
He chuckled, enjoying my discomfort. ‘Oh, a fair few. There’s one involving a sock that I found on his bedside table—’
‘Dad! I swear to God.’ I held up a finger.
He stared at me, the picture of innocence.
Rosie tugged on dad’s arm. ‘Okay, this is a story I need to hear.’ She winked, and the two sauntered off to the entrance, leaving me staring after them.