Page 52 of Bad Kind of Love

“Yes, of course. But he’s just a friend.” I repeat gazing down into my lap.

“Does he know that?”

My eyes lifted, caught off guard by his question. What could he mean by that?

“Dad, please…” I roll my eyes annoyed, and frankly mortified by this conversation. The last person on earth I want to talk about boys with is my dad.

“I know.” He chuckles, leaning back in his chair while scratching the back of his head. “You're my daughter, I worry about that kind of shit.” He shrugs.

“You don’t need to.” I reassure. “Boys are the last thing on my mind right now.”

The lie burned my tongue, because my world seemed to revolve around two men. Two men who happened to be father and son.

“Good, you’re young and don’t need to worry about boys anyway.” He seems relieved by my answer.

The old me, before I met the Fitzgerald’s, would agree with him. But now, everything has changed. My heart skipped a beat for two men, but I wasn’t quite sure what it meant yet. While I knew Wes felt something, Jack was still a mystery.

A mystery I wanted to solve, even if he ended up destroying me in the end.

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