Page 47 of Beneath the Surface

“I just started working here,” he shot back.

I scanned the room and found a stool on the far end.

“Go sit over there.” I pointed toward it, then reached into the bag and handed him his sub. “I’ll be right back.”

He looked at the sub I had made him as if it were going to explode, then looked at my face, and I noticed his eyes had gone soft. That had my stomach swirling, and it was confusing that every little thing had me feeling my emotions at a heightened pace.

It had to be the impending doom.

“I didn’t poison it. Now sit down and eat.”

His lips finally twitched, and I felt like I was doing something right.

“You look sexy when you’re being bossy,” he told me.

“Chair, now,” I snapped back.

Unbelievable, he was hurt and had time to have a smart mouth.

He raised his hands and began to make his way to where I had pointed. As he passed me, he bent his head and whispered in my ear. I could feel my face turning red from his words.

“Your ass looked phenomenal bent over that car. I briefly wondered what it would feel like to fuck you like that. Would you still be bossy with my c?—”

He hissed in pain as I smacked him on his ribs.

“Sit down.”

The asshole barked out a pained laugh but did as I asked. I waited until he sat down, then headed to my dad’s office, figuring he would be there since he wasn’t out here.

He was sitting at his desk, going over some files.

“Hey, Daddy,” I told him.

The smile he gave me when he saw me had a pang spreading through me. The thing about guilt was that it was like a parasite infecting every moment and tainting it. It took away joy from things that should have made you happy, and instead, it was there telling you why you couldn’t allow yourself to have them.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

I snapped out of it and put on my best fake smile. It was the one I used when I had competitions, to pretend I wasn’t dreading falling on the ice and making a fool out of myself.

“Nothing,” I told him. “I brought you dinner since I missed lunch.”

I pulled out the sub from my bag and handed it to him. My dad had a soft smile as he took it.

“It should be the other way around. I should be the one feeding you.”

My throat constricted with that damn guilt.

“I’m sorry I missed lunch.”

“It’s okay. Coach Pierce stopped by.”

This time, there was no doubt that my face was beet red. Micah and I got so caught up in the moment, I was glad I had walked from Greek row to his house. My dad had my car wrapped in a pink pearl color, and in the back, I had a Blackwell Lake U skating decal and the ZGT Greek letters. It would not be hard to put two and two together.

“Yeah, I was running an errand for my house,” I lied, not knowing why I did so. “So…what did Coach Pierce want?”

My dad let out a snort.

“He stopped by, concerned after one of the parents sent us a message.”

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