Page 11 of Mistle-Ho

He’ll give me shit and I’ll hate him for it.

6

Three Times is Three Times Too Many

Gavin

I SHOULD HAVE found a way to make Alexis stay the night of the party. Should have stopped her when she started to leave and done all the things I can’t stop thinking about doing now.

Instead, I’ve spent the days since watching her run across the yard in my T-shirt, imagining what it would have been like if I’d popped my head out of my ass and gotten to touch her the way I’m desperate to now.

“What’s wrong?” My dad scowls at me across the table, a forkful of steak dinner hanging in front of his mouth.

“Nothing.” I lean back in my seat and stab at my own filet.

Our yearly Christmas dinner is going about as well as it always does. He spends the whole meal bitching about my mother and downing top-shelf bourbon, and I do my best not to roll my eyes at having to listen to the same bitter story for the millionth time.

I get why he’s upset, I do, but I’d fucking love it if we could talk about something else for once.

“You sure as hell don’t have anything to be pissy about.” My old man chews his mouthful. “You’re good-looking, rich, and you don’t have a woman fucking up your life.” He points the tines of his fork at my face. “And you should keep it that way.The only thing a woman will do is take your money and break your fucking heart.”

His bitterness has only grown since he and my mother finally divorced after years of infidelity—hers—and misery—his. I see where he’s coming from. In his mind, he loved the shit out of her and it was never enough.

I’m still sick of hearing about it, though, so I try to shift the topic. “How’s work going? They keeping you busy?”

My dad shrugs. “They always keep me busy.” He downs what’s left of his drink, looking around for our server so he can order another. “But what else have I got to do?” He snorts, the sound lacking any amusement. “It’s not like I’ve got women beating down my door like you do.” He catches our waiter’s eye and lifts his glass. “Take full advantage of it while you can.”

I shift in my seat, not any happier with the turn the conversation has taken. Not long ago Iwastaking full advantage of the opportunities being thrown my way, but—like things with Alexis—that changed, and I can’t seem to get back where I was.

“Have fun while you can so you have the memories when you can’t.” My dad continues on, barreling into the same lecture he’s given me every time I’ve seen him for the past ten years. “But never trust a single one of them, and make sure as hell you don’t fall in love.” His creased eyes narrow when they meet mine. “You remember what happened the last time you let a girl make a fool of you.”

“I remember.” And even if I didn’t, he wouldn’t let me forget. It’s the event that defined our relationship and brought us together. The common ground every interaction we have always ends up centering around.

My dad’s scowl morphs into a smirk. “I bet that girl’s kicking herself now for what she did to you.” His eyes drift to one side, lighting up as they fix on a spot over my right shoulder. “Don’t look now, but you’re getting some attention from a couple tablesover.” He jerks his chin in the direction he’s looking. “Pretty little thing with a big smile. You can go talk to her. I don’t mind.”

My tri-annual dinners with my dad have gotten less and less enjoyable the past few years. Time has only made him angrier, and the glee in his gaze over the thought of me sleeping with some random woman and cutting her loose turns my stomach. “I don’t want to go talk to her.”

I know what my dad thinks of me, but while I have made my way into more than a few beds, I always told them the truth. That I wasn’t looking for anything more. I wouldn’t be calling them. We wouldn’t be going out to dinner or movies. And nearly all of them were fine with it. The ones who weren’t, walked away, so I never felt bad about what I was doing. It wasn’t about punishing every woman I met for what one of them did to me.

In spite of what my dad obviously thinks.

“Fine.” He smiles wide, waving one hand in a beckoning motion. “Then I’ll bring her over here.”

“Don’t—” I clamp my mouth shut as a brunette bounces up next to our table. She beams at me as she rocks up onto her toes.

“Have you met my son Gavin?” My dad lays on the charm he’s capable of in spite of his normally shitty temperament. “He plays for the Cape Coral Swamp Cats.”

“You’re The Wall.” The woman looks to be a couple years younger than me—probably Al’s age, but she’s way more bubbly and smiley than my best friend’s little sister. “I’m Betsy.”

I only give her half a smile because I don’t want her getting any wrong ideas. “Nice to meet you.” That’s all I offer her before standing from my seat. “If you’ll excuse me.” I don’t say where I’m going because I’m not going to lie. If they think I’m heading to the bathroom, that’s on them.

Cutting across the restaurant, I find our waiter and pay the bill before ducking out into the night, leaving my dad to deal with the mess he created. Over the years, I’ve done my best tokeep some sort of relationship with him so I’d at least have one parent in my life, but the time I can stomach him has dwindled more every time I see his face.

And might have just dropped to zero.

My mood keeps dropping as I climb behind the wheel of my new Hummer SUV. It’s a little too flashy for my taste, but after wasting hours of my life trying to shoehorn myself into cars with no legroom, I got over it. Thank God, because at least I’m comfortable while I stew over my dad and how badly I fucked up with Al.

By the time I get home, I’m pissed as hell, so instead of going to my own door, I stop at the one next to it and knock. Fynn, my friend and neighbor, opens it after a few seconds. The wealthy businessman whose condo takes up the other half of our floor of the ocean-view building is normally perfectly groomed, but tonight his button-up shirt is open at the neck and his dark hair is sticking out in all directions.

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