Page 88 of Bound By My Father's Best Friend

But how could I even bring that up to him?

Once I patted my face dry with a paper towel, I dumped it into the garbage and stepped into the hallway. I headed back toward my table, but stopped before I could turn the corner, the sound of a man’s voice drifting through my ears.

And not just any man. My father.

I tiptoed to the corner and glanced around it to see Dad and Evelyn sitting on a sofa and chatting quietly.

Evelyn’s brows were furrowed, and she gripped Dad’s hand gently. “It’s going to be okay, Jacob. I promise.”

“I should have seen it coming,” Dad said. “I should have protected her.”

“Protected her from who?” Evelyn asked. “Hector? You’ve seen how sweet he is with her.”

Dad’s shoulders jerked forward, the way mine did when I cried. “I just thought I knew her so well, Evelyn. But she’s been keeping this secret from me. How could I have missed it? Am I such a shitty father that I drove her to this?”

Evelyn squeezed his hand tighter. “You’re not a bad father, but you are hard on her.”

“So, is this my fault?” he asked, voice cracking.

My chest tightened, and I leaned against the wall, tears in my eyes. I forced myself to turn around and head in the opposite direction because I didn’t know what I would say to him if he saw me. I didn’t know how he would react.

He blamed himself, and part of me blamed him too. I’d been seeking approval from him my entire life, and when Hector gave it to me … I took it. But at the same time, there was nothing to blame my father for. I’d met the man who I loved the most.

CHAPTERFIFTY-TWO

HECTOR

The next night,I sat on the couch, scrolling through collars on my laptop.

Heather lingered in the kitchen and wiped the already-clean counter with a dry rag, trying to busy herself.

I arched a brow, closed my laptop, and set it on the coffee table in the living room. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Heather,” I hummed, “what’s wrong?”

She chewed on her inner cheek and looked over at me. “Can we talk?”

“Come here.” I beckoned her over. “What’s going on?”

After setting down the rag, she walked over to me and toyed with the ends of her sleeves, which I had only seen her do a handful of times when she was nervous. Instead of sitting down beside me, she stayed standing.

“I wanted to?—”

“Sit down,” I ordered. “Relax and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She sat beside me. “I wanted to talk to you about our contract.”

I stiffened and briefly glanced back at the laptop, where I had been scrolling through collars that I would like to see fastened around Heather’s neck soon. I didn’t know when would be appropriate, especially with the drama involving Jacob, but I didn’t want to wait.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up taller. “Did I do something that upset you?”

“No.”

When she didn’t continue, I pushed. “Do you want to talk about your limits?”

“No,” she whispered, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her chest, as if to protect herself and to put even more space between us. “I want to talk about the termfull-time submissive. Is that okay?”

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