Page 42 of Fierce-Zander

“He did,” her father said.

“Do you have a problem with it? He’s thirty years old and completely independent.”

“He is,” her father said. “But I worry about him being further away.”

She snorted. “You didn’t worry so much when he was younger and struggling to understand what was happening in our lives.”

Her father sighed this time. “That isn’t true. I was worried as was your mother. Just because we didn’t or don’t express our feelings openly like you and Kellen do doesn’t mean we don’t care.”

She never expressed her feelings openly with her parents. That was a funny statement coming from them.

They might not even know who she was if they saw her with Zander last night.

How open she was. How much fun she was having.

Even her damn appearance in a fun shirt.

It felt like a high school crush that her thirty-four-year-old self wished she could have told her sixteen-year-old self back then to be excited about.

That she’d be smart and strong and confident and stand up for herself when she liked a guy. Be direct, and if he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t worth her time.

Not to give in and do things she didn’t enjoy and tell herself it was compromising when she was the only one doing it.

Nope, she learned through a lot of schooling and self-reflection that relationships only work when both people put an equal amount of time and effort into them.

“I’m not sure why you’re worried now,” she said. There was no talking to her parents. Not even her stepparents.

They’d heard her and her brother and nodded their heads, but they didn’t listen to them. They didn’t understand.

“We don’t want to see him lapse again.”

She laughed. “Dad. He was a teen that got in with the wrong crowd looking for attention that he wasn’t getting from home.”

“We understood that,” her father said. “But it’s like an alcoholic, they can relapse.”

She ground her teeth. She didn’t know how many times she had to have this conversation with her parents. She’d just had it with her mother not long ago, and since her father was all but repeating the same thing, she wondered if they compared notes.

“Did you talk to Mom about this?” she asked.

“Your mother is concerned,” her father said.

“Did she tell you what I said about all of this?” she asked. No reason to say it again if it was already done.

“She did, but I’m not sure I believe it.”

Regan wanted to growl but held it in. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe her parents would understand more if she did let out a little frustrated sound.

“Kellen was not an alcoholic. He wasn’t a drug addict. He partied with the wrong kids and when he drank he did some stupid things. Like teens who don’t have the best ability to make fully informed choices in life. You caught him smoking pot in his bedroom. Again, something that a lot of teens and adults alike do. I believe him when he says he hasn’t touched any kind of drug at all since he was out of college.”

“So he was still doing drugs in college?” her father asked. “That is news to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how many college students do the occasional drug? The percentage is higher than most believe it is and it goes up every year. Prescription drugs not given directly to a student are considered drug usage when they share them. The perception of it in college is almost as acceptable as social drinking. It’s not right, but it’s there. I know you and Mom never did anything stupid when you were younger.”

Yep, she said it tongue in cheek and knew her father would come back with, “Never. We knew right from wrong. We didn’t drink until we were twenty-one.”

“Then you’re the minority because even I was drinking in high school.”

“Regan!” her father said sternly. “Don’t let anyone know that. You could lose clients.”

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