Page 61 of Overexposed

“I don’t mind—Stella,” Seven countered, and I swore I heard the unspoken Stray at the end of the sentence even as he smiled. “I think this is an excellent time for me to get to know your dad. I bet he’ll even have some thoughts on our predicament.”

Not waiting for me to respond, he headed for the kitchen despite me glaring after him. I could hardly drop Dad and rush after Seven to get rid of him.

Dammit.

“Come on, Dad,” I said. “Back in bed.”

Dad let me walk him over. He was slow to slide into the bed and didn’t hide his grimace too well. I got him tucked in before I grabbed his cane and returned it to by the bed

“Shutterbug.” He didn’t raise his voice or glare, yet Dad seemed to encapsulate everything he wanted to know in those three syllables.

“I’ll get rid of him.” The deflection wouldn’t work. Dad’s dark green eyes were so much like mine, I could read the rejection in them clear as day.

“Are you in trouble?” Now he was worried. I was going to kill Seven Harrison.

“No, sir,” Seven said from the doorway as he returned with a red bucket full of popcorn and some sparkling waters as well as two bottles of iced tea. “I didn’t see any beer in the fridge, but there were these teas. If that won’t work, I can see about getting some delivered.”

“No,” I snapped before Dad could respond. “Dad doesn’t drink even when he wants to.” The last I punctuated with my own glare at Dad.

“Hmm” was Dad’s only response. “Fine, I’ll settle for tea for now.”

“So what movie were we going to watch?” Seven wanted to know.

“Was going to show Shutterbug one of my favorites from back in the day,” Dad said, motioning Seven toward the chair I usually sat in next to his bed. That hadn’t been the plan, but I was fine with changing it entirely. “Have a seat. You can join us, but no spoilers if you know them.”

“My lips are sealed,” Seven said with the easiest smile on his face that I’d ever seen him wear. He set the popcorn down and set Dad’s drink up before he glanced around the room, then at me. “Need me to grab you another chair, Stel?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said through gritted teeth. I had a folding chair I could grab and it would put me on the far side from him. “There’s really no need for you to stay.”

“But I want to.” The dick made a great show of taking a seat. The pair both gave me the same look of expectation.

I had no idea how this happened, really. Any of it. But this was how I found myself watchingLadyhawkewith Dad and Seven. Weirdly, Seven knew the movie—or maybe not so weirdly.

I’d heard of it but never watched it. As much as I tried to enjoy it, I kept finding my gaze tracking to Seven. There had to be an easy way to get him out of here. No doubt existed within me that his appearance here had everything to do with the asinine demand to see me about damage control thanks to Donnie selling those images.

The popcorn turned to ash, and after the one time my hand collided with Seven’s in the bowl, I just skipped having anymore. I finished an entire bottle of sparkling water and I’d never wished for it to be alcohol so much in my life.

The lightest of snores escaped Dad’s mouth as the movie came to the end. The triumph of the star-crossed lovers had left tears in my eyes. After blinking them back, I swiped a hand over my face before glancing at Dad.

He was sound asleep. With care, I eased the popcorn bowl off the side of the bed where he’d braced it. Seven rescued it from me and took Dad’s empty drink bottle as I pulled Dad’s cover up. Once I changed the station to one that ran marathons of Dad’s favorite shows, I nudged the volume down.

It only took me a couple of minutes to get everything set for Dad, so I could leave him to doze while I dealt with Seven. To my surprise, Seven didn’t say a word until he followed me into the kitchen.

“What happened?” The quiet question came out far kinder than anything else Seven had ever said.

“He got hurt, took a couple of blows to the head, and it revealed a glioblastoma we didn’t know was there.”

It was hard to escape the kind of terror that hit that day. Even now, well after Dad survived some of the worst parts…

I cleared my throat. “As it turned out, it was a lucky discovery. They could do something about it, but treatment has been intense and it took a lot out of him.”

“Probably expensive too,” Seven mused, and I turned from the sink, half-ready to lash back at him but there was no cunning or guile in his eyes. He looked more thoughtful than anything. “Does he have a good prognosis?”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “So far,” I said, keeping it as vague as the doctors seemed to do. “Options are good.”

“Yeah,” Seven said slowly. “I would imagine they are.”

After rinsing out the popcorn bowl, I shifted it over to the rack to dry. I wiped my hands with the dish towel as I faced him. “Thank you for not bringing up the earlier discussion in front of Dad.”

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