Page 76 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
I glanced up and met his wary expression. “Did you talk to him?”
He shook his head no, not saying a word.
If he drove Trace away, I didn’t know what I’d do. I didn’t want to give Dad one more reason to be disappointed in me. But I wasn’t sure I could ever be the son he really wanted, anyway. But Trace? He accepted and loved me just as I was. I couldn’t give that up.
“I want my phone back.”
“Your headaches—”
“I won’t text,” I said. “I just want to talk to him.”
Dad pushed my bowl forward, and the aroma of beef, potatoes, carrots, and savory broth wafted into my nose. My stomach grumbled again. “Eat,” he said.
Lena looked between us. “What’s going on? Why do you want to talk to Trace?”
“Not your business, Lena,” Dad said shortly.
She looked shocked Dad had been so rude. She was usually his little princess who could do no wrong. She could probably opt out of college, and he’d accept it happily. But not his son. No, he’d refused to let me take a gap year when I’d been uncertain college was the right path. He’d pushed me to enroll, pushed me to pursue the future he thought I should have. I’d gone along with it, knowing he was in pain from the divorce, not wanting to add to it.
But things were different now. I was starting to realize that I couldn’t live for Dad. Not anymore.
“Trace and I are involved,” I told Lena. “Dad doesn’t like it.”
She gaped. “Seriously?”
“Would you like it if I dated one of your friends?” Dad asked, suddenly looking angry. “If I was dating a college senior? One of the sorority girls, maybe?”
Lena wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”
I couldn’t deny my reaction was similar. The idea of Dad dating someone my age seemed unfathomable. But then Dad dating anyone seemed a little odd. It was difficult to picture him outside his role of stodgy college dean and father.
Dad pointed a finger at us. “Exactly. So don’t pretend you’d be jumping for joy about it.”
“You don’t have to jump for joy,” I said. “Just accept it.”
“I don’t accept it.”
“I want my phone back,” I insisted. “If you won’t talk to him, then—”
“Fine, I’ll talk to him when he calls back,” he growled. “If only to keep you from making yourself sick over it. You look too pale as it is. Now, please, Cooper, eat something. You need it.”
I slumped in my seat, all out of energy to fight. “Okay.”
Lifting my spoon, I sipped the fragrant broth. Savory, soothing flavor burst on my tongue.
“Good,” Dad said. “Finish every bite, then go back to bed. You need rest.” He turned his gaze on Lena. “And you, get back to your studies.”
Without another word, he turned and left the room. Silence hung heavy after his departure. I focused on my food, suddenly ravenous now that I’d started eating. After a few minutes, Lena shifted beside me.
“Wow,” she said. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
“You’ve never slept with his best friend,” I muttered.
“You and Trace? Really?” she said, sounding incredulous. “No wonder Dad is blowing a gasket. Trace isold—”
“Not that old,” I protested.
“But he’s still hot,” she mused. “And super sweet. Way to go.”
