Page 81 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
“I can pick you up.” I eyed the gaps in the porch awaiting fresh boards, torn between finishing the job and rushing to his side. As eager as I was to see him, I also wanted to tell him we’d put the final touches on another house.Patience is a virtue, I reminded myself. “Can you give me some time though? I’m in the middle of something.”
“Yeah, okay. I don’t exactly have a busy schedule. I can always take another nap,” he joked.
It was good to hear his voice lighten, but it made me more aware of how strained he’d sounded the whole time we’d been speaking. “Howareyou feeling? I should have led with that.”
“Better,” he said.
“How much better? And don’t sugarcoat it.”
“The headaches come and go,” he admitted. “They’re already less frequent. But I still can’t really deal with screens, or even reading words on a page. I have no idea how I’m going to catch up all my work when my brain feels like it’s leaking out of my ears half the time.”
“I’m sorry, Cooper. I wish I could take your pain away.”
“It’s enough that you’re here. I just want to be with you.”
“Then you will be,” I said. I hesitated. “As long as you’re sure you want to risk upsetting your dad? Matt probably isn’t ready to accept any of this yet.”
“He’s not,” Cooper agreed. “But my father is going to have to deal with it. I’m not going to stop loving you just because it makes him uncomfortable.”
“I never wanted to come between you.”
“I know. Please don’t blame yourself,” Cooper said. “You don’t want to make me choose, and I love you for that, but Ihavechosen.”
“Brat—”
“I choose me,” he said emphatically. “I choose my own happiness, okay? I’ve been living for my father too long. It’s my turn now, and I want my Daddy.”
“Then you’ll have him,” I said, my voice gruff with emotion. “As soon as I finish up here, I’ll come for you.”
“Where are you anyway? Do I hear…a saw?”
I smirked. “You might. I’m at Mr. Lemmings’ property.”
He gasped. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. I had to do something with all this time on my hands,” I said. “If I couldn’t be with you, then I wanted to help you however I could.”
His voice was soft when he replied, “I really don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve everything, brat. Don’t you ever tell yourself anything different.
24
COOPER
Iheard a motor rumble into the driveaway and hurried to tuck the last few items into my duffel. Trace had texted he’d arrive in ten minutes, and I was more than ready to go after prowling the house for the past couple of hours, finally recovered enough to be filled with anxious energy. Without the ability to scroll social media or watch television, I’d gone stir crazy enough to attempt a reading assignment, but even when I could focus on the words, my brain wouldn’t hold on to them long enough to absorb anything. I’d given it up as a bad job and found one of my sister’s old coloring books, finding it oddly relaxing to color ponies prancing through fields of flowers.
I signed one sloppily, able to manage that much, and left it on her bed with a smiley face. Hopefully, she’d take it for the peace offering it was. Lena had been pretty decent these past few days, checking in on me and offering up her MP3 player while I didn’t have my phone. I’d even overheard her engaged in a whispered argument with Dad the day before. I didn’t even need a clear head to guess what that was about. Whatever she’d said, it hadn’t made much impact, given his attitude today.
I was angry on Trace’s behalf, hearing Dad say they weren’t friends anymore. I understood it wasn’t the ideal, finding out your son was sleeping with a friend, but he was being unreasonable. I was an adult, and Trace was anything but a bad influence. I’d tried to tell Dad that my improved grades—somethinghe’dalways wanted for me—were partly thanks to Trace. For all the good it did. I suspected I’d only managed to annoy Dad by pointing out that Trace had helped me in ways he couldn’t.
I zipped my bulging backpack, which included the borrowed coloring book and box of crayons, and shouldered my bags. When I reached the living room, Dad was stepping through the front door. The car engine I heard must have been him, rather than Trace.
We both froze when we saw one another.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m getting back to my life,” I said. “Thanks for letting me stay, but I can manage from here on out.”
