Page 32 of Forbidden Daddy Mate

“I’m fine,” I babbled. “Really. I just…I’ve needed some time.”

She had her dad’s eyes. God, it was impossible not to see him in her face. Same lips, same brow furrow when they got worried. I could barely look at her without thinking about him screwing my brains out back at the cabin. How was I supposed to act around her after everything I’d done?

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because I’m here to talk if you want.” She held up a bottle of wine. “I even brought the perfect venting refreshment. I thought it might cheer you up.”

My stomach churned with guilt. I wanted to talk to Jenn. There was so much in my head that I needed to sort out, but I felt completely unable to do so with her, of all people.

“I’m just not feeling well,” I said. “Stomach bug, I think.”

“Oh.” Jenn’s hands lowered. “Yeah, I guess with all the chaos going on right now, it’s no wonder you got sick. Do you need me to bring you anything? Soup? Something like that?”

“No, no,” I said hurriedly. “I’ve got it covered. Thanks, though.”

Before she could say anything else or ask any other questions, I said, “Thanks for coming by, but I’ve got to get going. I think I’m about to be sick. Bye!”

I slammed the door closed.

I didn’t relax until I heard her footsteps leading away from the house. Even then, the relaxation was tainted with something akin to repulsion or disgust. How could I do something like that to my best friend? Not only had I slept with her dad, I couldn’t even look her in the eye now.

My stomach churned. Had sleeping with Malcolm entirely ruined my friendship with Jenn? It was starting to look that way. Guilt wrapped around me as I worried what might happen. Right now, it was beginning to look like I might have to flee the city, if only so I never had to explain to Jenn why I was avoiding her.

“Things are never uncomplicated,” I mumbled to myself. “No matter how often you insist it’s going to be fine, it’s never not going to be complicated. Sooner you learn that, the happier you’ll be.”

I fiddled with the silver necklace Malcolm had given me. As I did, a thought struck me. He’d known, or at least suspected, what they were before the first attack. I remembered the instant he heard the name Varin. I remembered that knowing look he and Jameson had exchanged after the fight.

I remembered wondering if Malcolm knew more than he had let on. I’d told myself it wasn’t my business if he did. Except was that really true? I’d been hunted down by a vampire, for crying out loud. And now I was keeping secrets from my best friend because we’d agreed it was for the best.

He’d been brushing me off whenever I tried to bring it up. But I deserved better than that.

I frowned, annoyance beginning to bubble beneath the surface. I’d never been great at confrontation. I hated it. But the last couple of days had flipped a switch. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain Malcolm had been keeping things from me, things I deserved to know. My jaw clenched.

The more I stewed over what had happened, the angrier I got. After everything I’d been through, he hadn’t been willing to tell me everything.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my coat, stuffed my feet into my boots, and marched out the door, heading toward Malcolm’s house.

It was time I got some answers.

Chapter 15 - Malcolm

I was starting to wonder if I’d made a mistake. Maybe two.

The first that bothered me was the fight with Varin. Something about it had seemed almost too easy. It could have been me in my old age imagining things, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it should have been more difficult. Compared to the fight at the cabin, I’d gotten out of it effectively unscathed. In any other situation, I should have considered that a boon. But I had been in the game too long to believe things could be that easy, except it seemed they had been. Nothing had happened since then. I was probably just paranoid in my old age.

The other mistake I was worried about was Freya. I had checked on her a couple of times since we’d gotten back to make sure she was all right and see how her arm was healing. Both times, she’d been friendly, though maybe a bit jumpy. The conversations had been brief. I didn’t think either of us knew fully how to interact with the other now. I’d thought that ending it would be the best option for both of us, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew what I’d done was the right move, but I didn’t like it. I wanted her nearby all the time.

I tried to tell myself to knock it off, but it had taken all my strength to keep her at arm’s length. It was for the best, though. I was old enough to be her father. She was Jenn’s best friend. Being with her was inappropriate. The fact that it annoyed me had nothing to do with the truth of the matter.

The knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts.

I walked over, and a familiar scent of ginger and honey wafted toward me. My wolf growled in pleasure, aware of who was on the other side of the door and happy that she had come. That didn’t stop me from hesitating before I grabbed the handle and turned.

Freya stood in the doorway, her jaw set, her eyes steel. There was something incredibly stunning about the way she looked when she felt strongly about something. But the anger in her stance set me on edge. Something was wrong.

“What happened?” I asked.

Her gaze met mine, and I could sense the anger wafting off her. “We need to talk.”

“Come on in,” I said, holding the door open. She marched in. “Jenn texted me earlier,” I said. “She’s worried about you. Says you two haven’t spoken much lately and she’s worried she’s done something to upset you.”

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