Page 63 of A Major Puck Up

I should be congratulating him too, but all I can do is blink as I try to wrap my head around what this means for my relationship.

Fuck, there is no way in the world Millie is going to handle this well.

TWENTY-TWO

MILLIE

I lie in bed, terrified to move. Does the floor creak? I can’t remember if the floor creaks. If I get out of bed, will my father know there’s a woman in Gavin’s room? Dammit. This is the worst possible way to get caught. He cannot find out about us while I’m naked and in Gavin’s bed. All arguments for why we work and how age shouldn’t matter go right out the window when it looks like we’re doing nothing but sneaking around and having sex.

Gavin and I are so much more than sneaking around and sex. Sure, the forbidden thing was fun, and yes, the sex is phenomenal, but so are our conversations and the feel of his arms holding me tight. His smiles and his forehead kisses and his encouragements. He makes me happy every day, even when we aren’t together. Though we’re together more often than seems possible now thanks to Gavin’s private jet.

When the season started, I was at the game, cheering on my brother, and then I spent the night in my boyfriend’s bed, lost in him, in us. So much so that we were both late to brunch the next day with my father and Lake. Lake definitely knows the truth, even if she hasn’t said it in so many words, but my father is completely oblivious. Hell, he’s the one who invites Gavin along every time we meet up in Boston.

Despite how adamant Gavin is about coming clean with my dad, it’s the last thing I want to do.

If Gavin and I date out in the open, then it’ll send a message to them that I’m okay with my dad’s relationship with Lake. And though I’m better at keeping it to myself, I’m still struggling on that front.

Not because I don’t believe that my father loves her. Or that she loves my father.

The root of the issue lies in my relationship with my dad. Since Lake came into the picture, things have not been the same between us. Maybe it’s unfair to put that on her, but it’s easier than admitting the truth: that my father broke my heart.

He broke my heart when he gave her half the company without considering that I may have interest in working with him. Yes, I told Gavin that I’m happy with my job, and while it’s not a complete lie, I’ve become stagnant.

But so long as I have Gavin, I can push all those concerns away. He’s like a bandage, covering all my ugly, broken pieces and keeping me stitched together. It’s not until I’m alone that the anger starts to bleed out of me again.

And if my father isn’t okay with us dating—if he makes Gavin choose—I worry that he may not choose me. And regardless of the disconnect between us, I don’t want to lose my dad either.

But time is barreling forward whether I want it to or not. And now my father is down the hall while I’m here, naked in his best friend’s bed.

Fuck.

Could this get any worse?

I’ve spiraled for a solid thirty minutes when the main door opens and closes again. Two minutes later, the bedroom door swings open, and Gavin walks in.

At the sight of him, I blow out a breath of relief. “Is he gone?”

Gavin nods slowly, but the movement is robotic, like his mind is somewhere else.

“Everything okay?” I ask, finally sitting up.

Without responding, Gavin snags my robe from the back of his bathroom door. Little by little, my things have migrated here and found homes in his space. I don’t hate the way he smiles every time he finds something else of mine.

He holds it up, silently signaling that it’s time to get out of bed. Once he’s wrapped me in it, he presses a kiss to my neck. “Yeah, we should talk.”

Tying the sash, I spin so I can see his face. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Head shaking, he rubs at his chin, blinking again. “It’s not bad. He doesn’t know.”

He leaves it at that. It’s a reassurance, though his words fill be with dread instead of relief.

“What’s going on, Gav?”

He drops to the mattress, then pulls me onto his lap. “Your father really should be telling you this, and he plans to. Tomorrow, I guess. But I can’t know and not tell you.”

Anxiety races through me as I clutch his shoulders and search his face.

Is my dad sick? Is he?—

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