Page 181 of Collided

Hope flinches and I feel like a dick.

I take a minute to cool myself down, but nothing helps. The thought of some guy spending time with her drives me crazy when it shouldn’t.

“Why the fuck are you going on a date with him?”

“Because he asked me on a date,” she whispers.

“Andnotbecause you want to?”

“I want to. He’s sweet and it’s nice talking to him.”

I scoff.

“Marie supported the idea,” Hope adds and now I want to kill Marie for suggesting this stupid idea.

“When is this fucking date?” I ask.

“He’s picking me up at six tomorrow.”

Maybe it isn’t too late to leave town. I can book a hotel for the weekend and escape. It’s better than staying here and witnessing Hope going on a fucking date.

Shortly after I drop her home, I drive to Marie’s house.

I knock on the door impatiently. Seriously! What the fuck was she thinking?

The door opens and Issac Anderson, Marie’s father, steps out in a white button-up and dark gray slacks. He’s as tall as me and has a lean build.

He greets me with a warm smile. “Heath, it’s nice seeing you. It’s been a while. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter irritatedly.

This man looks at me with such affection. I don’t like it one bit. He adores both me and Sebastian—him more than me because he’s the boyfriend of his daughter. He’s an incredible father to Marie. I’ve seen it from time to time. He’ll destroy anyone who makes Marie miserable—he almost did.

Between Marie, Sebastian, and I, she’s the only one who has the most caring and loving parents.

Issac holds the door open. “Why don’t you step inside, son?”

Son.The word always gets to me when he says it. Maybe it’s the longing, knowing my father and I will never be close like he is with his two children.

I take a step back. “I should go.”

“Sit with me for coffee.”

“I have something—”

Giving me a playful glare he warns me, “Don’t make me drag you inside, son.”

Deflated, I follow him to the living room which looks straight out of a magazine. The decor is simple and elegant in a homey way. Everything is expensive and meaningful. Like the white plush rug under the coffee table, Marie begged for it because she loves soft things. Or the red cream curtains with self-prints because Camila likes them. Marie has told me so many stories when I used to come here to keep her company because Sebastian was in rehab.

Issac motions for me to sit. “I’ll bring your black coffee with no sugar.”

I open my mouth to argue but he sends me another glare causing me to sit my ass back down.

I’ve never been able to fight off Issac Anderson. The way he treats me or talks to me gives off this fatherly energy. And because I crave it in life I smother under it like a sunflower in the sun.

I can sayfuck offto anyone, even my father, but not to this man. He’s as good as his daughter. Like patches torn from the same cloth.

Issac returns with my coffee and sits across from me on the sofa.

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