Page 108 of Red Hot Harmony

“You could say that,” I agreed.

“She’s fifteen. It happens to a lot more teenagers than you’d think. You should have seen my younger brother when he was Ally’s age. Asshole doesn’t even begin to give his behavior justice. She’ll be fine once she sleeps it off.”

“Thank you again.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Cassy’s smile changed, became a smirk. “Frank and I are glad Dante has you and Ally.”

I shifted and glanced at him trying to pacify my kid in the room. They were talking about something, their faces animated. They looked nothing alike, yet for whatever reason, this impossible man had turned out to be more of a parental figure than Greg had ever been. “He’s great with her.”

“He is. You should keep him for good.”

I sighed deeply. “He doesn’t make it easy.”

“You’re probably correct. He’s very...complicated, but deep down, he’s a good person. Besides, no relationship is easy.”

We were silent for a moment because I had nothing to say to that.

“There are some clean T-shirts and sweats in the closet,” Cassy explained. “Why don’t you change and come join us for dinner. I know it’s late, but we haven’t had a chance to sit down yet and you must be hungry too. Besides, Hannah makes the best lasagna.”

She was right.

I was only now realizing I hadn’t eaten anything all day and my stomach growled.

“We’ll be there in a little bit.”

Once Cassy left and Dante retreated to his own room, I tried to get Ally to undress and clean up, but she was fading fast, alcohol in her system making her tired and sluggish.

“Mom,” she drawled from the bed. “Are we at Frankie Blade’s house?”

“Yes.” I pulled off her boots and set them in the corner.

“He’s hot.”

He was. Even I couldn’t deny the fact, but I decided not to continue this conversation.

“His girlfriend is literally my age,” Ally went on. “I don’t know what your problem is with me dating an older guy.”

“We’ll talk about it when you’re sober. Okay, Bug?” I squeezed her ankle.

She closed her eyes and didn’t produce a response.

Boy, was I glad. Hearing my fifteen-year-old daughter talk about men she had no business talking or even thinking about filled me with both rage and frustration.

After putting Ally to sleep, I took a quick shower and threw on one of the plain tees and a pair of bottoms Cassy had left for me, then grabbed my phone and stepped out into the corridor.

The house was quiet except for occasional muted noises coming from the living room area. The AC was blasting full force and the air was clean and smoke-free, so I took a moment to breathe it in and let it sit in my lungs.

Once my strange craving was satisfied, I carefully knocked on Dante’s door.

He opened it almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for me all this time on the other side.

“Hey,” I said, surveying his naked chest and the ink that covered his skin. His wet hair had been slicked back, his face fully exposed. He wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans and nothing else, but there were a few T-shirts sprawled on the bed and it looked like he was in the middle of picking one.

“Hey yourself.” The corners of his lips tilted up a little. “What’s up with Hendrix?” He poked his head out and scanned the corridor. “I thought she was hungry.”

“She passed out.”

“Good. She’ll feel much better when she wakes up.”

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