Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
And I love it, crave it. There must be something wrong with me. Why didn’t I ever feel this way with Lucas?
Stupid question. Everything was always about him, all the time.
As I slide into an empty parking spot on the lowest level of the garage, I sigh. What’s the use of being so happy about Callum if everything else in my life is going down the shitter? I was already dissatisfied as it was, but it’s harder than ever to pretend otherwise. I don’t have many options. I need to shake this off fast. I can’t skip the meeting, and I can’t turn down the job. All those things are career suicide that would leave me broke and begging my dad for a place to live. Never mind how disappointed he would be, and there isn’t much I hate worse than disappointing him.
The phone’s sudden ring makes me yelp—I was that zoned out.
“No way,” I whisper, my eyes widening at the word DAD flashing on the screen.
If I was superstitious, I would swear he could read my mind. Not like I haven’t wondered whether he could throughout my life, but especially after we lost Mom. He knew what I was thinking before I thought about it, always watching, listening, and anticipating.
He lost his wife and couldn’t handle the idea of losing someone else again. My face goes hot, and my stomach drops like on the way down the first hill on a roller coaster.
He can’t know about Callum and me. There is literally no way he knows about it. And somehow, my hackles have risen. I need to get a grip before answering, or else I’ll end up making him suspicious. I’ve never been a good liar, and he’s a detective for a reason.
At least I have an excuse to get off the phone quickly.
“Hey, Dad,” I say after accepting the call and turning on the speakerphone. “You caught me on my way in to sign the last of the paperwork at the firm.”
“Don’t let me keep you.” Pride resonates in his voice and echoes through the car. “I only wanted to check in and see how you’re doing and if you’re excited about the new job?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” And why not? I’ve spent the past four years preparing for this next step in my career.
“Your mom would be so proud of you,” he murmurs.
The man has a talent for knowing just what to say to make me feel like a complete piece of shit. Even if he doesn’t mean to or realize it.
“I hope she would be,” I whisper, closing my eyes before touching the back of my head to the seat. Of all times, the memory of being tied to Callum’s bed pops up.
She wouldn’t be so proud if she knew about that.
“Is everything okay with you?” Because I need to change the subject. It’s already tough enough to be the single shining star in my father’s life, feeling like there’s a spotlight on me at all times. I know I’m lucky—some people don’t have any sort of relationship with their parents, much less a loving one. It’s just that there have been more times than I can count when his love has felt more like smothering.
“Just fine.” I can almost see him at his desk, which I’d bet anything is covered in used coffee cups from the truck down the street from the station. He lives on caffeine, especially when he’s deep in the middle of a case. That would explain how tight his voice sounds.
He’s not much better at lying than I am.
“It doesn’t sound so fine. You sound tired and stressed.”
An irritable sigh tells me I’m right. “Eh, you know how it is. Sometimes you spend weeks or months on a case and get nowhere, then something breaks, and you’re fighting to keep your head above water when all the new information comes pouring in.”
“That sounds like a good problem. It means you’re on the right track.”
“Yes. Yes, it does, and I think I am.”
“Don’t let me keep you from it,” I joke, eyeing the door leading from the garage into the building. “I’d better get moving. Can’t be late before I’ve even started the job.”
“Get in there and show them what you’re made of.”
“I’m signing papers, Dad. Not actually starting.”
“Then use good penmanship.”
I’m laughing as I end the call, and even though my stomach sank at first, I’m glad his timing worked out like it did. Before I pulled into the garage, I was feeling lower than I realized. And I don’t know why. I have everything to feel happy and hopeful about.
Even the breakup, which I now realize I didn’t confess to Dad. Great. He’s going to take it the wrong way when he finds out it took days to tell him my longtime relationship ended.