Page 63 of Sexy Bad Daddy

Chapter Seventeen

ERIN

I hate this house Danny shares with I don’t even know how many other guys. Seems like there’s a new face every other day. The bathroom is disgusting no matter how many times I clean it. Why can’t guys hit the toilet? It’s a plenty big enough target, for God’s sake. And there’s nothing but beer, condiments, and leftover pizza in the fridge. I don’t understand how people live like this, and Danny’s been doing it since he graduated from college.

I have to get out of here, but first, I need a job. Not a nanny gig, either. I’m through with that scene. Through with the heartache. And I’m not even talking about Garrett. Losing Abby is as much of a slice to my heart as losing him. Might even be worse, since she’s an innocent victim in all of this. Garrett, he had a choice.

I’ve avoided social media while I’ve been hiding out here. I’ve only left for necessities—food, toilet paper, fresh air. Okay, so I’ve left a lot, but I avoid anyplace I once went with Garrett and I wear a hat or scarf over my hair most of the time. I’m like a movie star trying to go incognito, except it’s easy because no one really cares who I am.

Danny’s tried to talk me into reaching out to Garrett, and I’ve refused. I’m too raw, my head is too full of what ifs. I’m afraid if I do go see him, I’ll beg him to let me stay, and that’s just pitiful and sad.

Danny, on the other hand, had no qualms about going to Paynter and Chloe’s wedding today. “She’s paying me more than I’ve made in any one month since I graduated,” he said as he adjusted his tie and headed out the door. “You sure you don’t want to go with me?”

“Positive.” The duck punctuated my response with a quack.

Yes, the duck. To be honest, I didn’t even realize I had the thing in my arms until we were seated on the L, heading to Danny’s place, the night my world came crashing down around me. I tried to return it the next day, but the thing just followed me home again. I’ve had to buy a larger purse so it can sit inside when I go to the grocery store, because it quite literally refuses to be away from me. The one time I tried to lock it up, one of the guys Danny shares the house with let it out because it was making such a ruckus. The damn thing came flapping and waddling down the street after me and nearly got hit by a car.

So now I have an obsessed duck, no job, and I’ve vowed to never fall in love again. Wow, how the mighty have fallen. Not that I was particularly mighty in the first place, but there had been a point when I felt pretty damn good about my life. The only thing missing was Garrett’s declaration of … something. Anything to give me hope that what we had was special, and that it wouldn’t all unravel the moment a difficulty—a.k.a. Peter Wilkins—showed up.

My phone vibrates and I glance down to read the screen.

HELP!

That’s all the text from Danny says. I wait for him to elaborate.

I forgot my wallet. Stupid bartender won’t let me have a drink without my ID.

I type: Aren’t you working anyway?

Only until the wedding starts, then I’m done. And holy shit, Garrett’s sister is smokin’. I’m sticking around, but I need my wallet!

I pause with my fingers over the screen. I have literally nothing else going on at the moment, so dropping off his wallet would be no big deal. Except he’s at Paynter and Chloe’s wedding, and so is Garrett, I’m sure. And Abby. And that’s too close for comfort.

I’ll grab one of your roomies, ask him to take it to you.

His response is immediate: Are you fucking kidding me? Any one of them will steal the last $5 to my name and take my license and Social Security card, too.

I consider pointing out that he shouldn’t carry his Soc around in his wallet, but then again, where else is someone like Danny supposed to keep such a valuable bit of identification?

Come on, his next text cajoles. I’ll meet you at the end of the street. You don’t have to actually come to the house.

I stare at the words on the screen. I suppose that’s fair enough. And I need to go out for toilet paper, anyway. Again. No idea how a houseful of guys goes through TP so damn fast. Or what the hell they did when I wasn’t living here, because no one else seems inclined to ensure the place is stocked up.

Fine. Give me ten and I’m on my way.

His response is a bunch of kissy face emojis, so I guess he’s pleased. With a groan that’s mostly annoyance at my general lot in life, I climb off the couch, grab my bag and head to the bathroom, the duck waddling along behind me. I don’t do much to my appearance since I don’t plan to actually see anyone, but I do change out of my pajama pants and throw on a pair of jeans and a bra.

Thirty minutes later, with the duck perched in the passenger seat, I turn my vehicle down Paynter’s street, driving painfully slow as I search for Danny and try to avoid sideswiping the plethora of cars parked pretty much everywhere. There’s only a narrow passage, enough for one car at a time, and lights flash ahead of me, indicating someone is waiting for me to move so they can leave. Paynter’s house looms to my left, and I actually hunch my shoulders and stare straight ahead as I guide my vehicle off to the side so the other driver can get through the crush of parked cars.

Lifting my phone off the console, I start to send Danny a text when there’s a tap on the window. I let out a little shriek that’s accompanied by a quack, and when I look up, I see a young guy in a valet uniform. Rolling down the window, I give him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. You startled me.”

“Is that a duck?” he asks, nodding at my passenger.

“Um … yep.”

He shrugs. “Goats, ducks, these rich people sure are strange.” And then he grabs the door handle and pulls it open. “Come on, I’ll park it properly for you. Wow, you took the casual aspect of this wedding for real, huh?”

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