Page 25 of Degraded Terms

“Hi, Ava girl. I switched routes this morning and I’ll be around your area later today. Do you have time for dinner?”

My mood lifts instantly and I sit up in bed. “Seriously? What time are you coming?.”

He sighs. “I should be there a little after four. I miss my girl.”

I smile, my throat aching with emotion. “I miss you too. How long can you stay in town?”

My dad laughs. “Just for the evening, but I requested some time for Christmas. I was thinking we could head to that cabin you like in Vermont.”

Jumping out of bed, I let out a small squeal. “Oh my god. Yes! I’ve been dying to go back.”

“I knew you’d be excited. I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I toss my phone onto my bed and sigh. I’ve really missed my dad, and it would be a perfect distraction from the storm of my thoughts revolving around Asher Rockford.

It’s already been a day longer than I like it to be when skipping showers, so I grab my supplies and head to the bathrooms. I’m reminded of the gorgeous bathroom Asher has attached to his bedroom and I scowl, hastily going through the motions before scurrying back to my room.

After changing into clean pajamas, I sit at my desk and try to finish up some coursework while glancing at the clock every ten minutes till it’s about one hour before my dad should be here. Then I put away my half-assed work and start to get ready for our dinner date.

A knock on my door has me frozen where I stand. There’s no certainty it’s Asher, and I half-expect him to try to get in without knocking, but I can’t be sure. When there’s not another knock or even an attempt at turning my doorknob, I make my way over and open it.

I frown at the large paper bag sitting in the hallway. Carrying it inside, I set it on my desk and rip it open. My hands freeze when I see the contents. It’s like a mini-care basket, filled with food, treats, and luxury items. There’s a small card sitting on top of it and my heart sinks, knowing who it’s from.

I take it out, determined to be strong enough to read his words.

Ava,

You can be upset, but that doesn’t excuse not taking care of yourself. I haven’t seen you leave your dorm in two days, and I know the food is limited. I’ve packed enough for the next few days, as well as some things to help you relax.

Take care, Pet.

-A

I scowl, throwing the card in the trash. His scolding can be felt through the paper, and while he’s not wrong…he can go fuck himself. If I didn’t care about wasting products, I’d toss them too, but I don’t have the heart to.

Dumping the bag out on my bed, tears well up when I see it’s all my favorites. I rub my eyes with my palms before grabbing my pillow and screaming into it. He only knows my favorites because he’s a fucking stalker. Not because he cared enough to ask and learn them by talking to me.

Just when I’m feeling proud of myself for not thinking about him for a few hours he does this. I grab a pillow off my bed and press it to my face before screaming as loud as I can till I run out of breath. Then I drop the pillow and snag a chewy fruity candy from the stash, cursing his name as I enjoy it and head out to the diner where my dad and I always meet.

He squeezes me tight and the dull ache builds in my throat as I withhold my tears, hugging him back. I inhale his familiar smell, the earthy musk with a hint of mint from his chewing tobacco. His belly is a little bigger and the gray in his beard is spreading. It makes me sad to imagine my dad getting older.

“Damn good to see you, Ava girl.”

I let go, stepping back with a teasing smile. “What happened to the dad who said me going to college would make it easier on both of us?”

He clears his throat, adjusting the ball cap on his head. “He’s an idiot. It never gets easier.”

We walk into one of my favorite diners, going to the booth we always take when he visits before ordering the same meal of a cheeseburger and coke.

“How’s school going?” he asks.

I slump a bit in my seat and he notices.

My dad’s eyebrows raise. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t look good.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m passing my classes,” I reassure him. Though he doesn’t need to know I’m fucking one of my professors to pass said class. I sigh. “I just—I don’t know what I want to do anymore.”

“With what, sweetheart?”