Page 21 of Dissonance (Unrequited 3)

Murray

My dad had movedto New York from Maryland when the city became my permanent address. He’d been born and raised in Baltimore, so I never thought I’d see the day he called another state his home. But I was happy as hell he did.

Yeah, we were those codependent assholes who actually thrived on living near each other.

“Dad?”

“In here, kid,” came my dad’s mumbled reply.

I strode through his sleek, modern apartment, finding him at his desk in his office. He started to rise from his chair, but I shook my head, and he fell back down in relief. Immediately, I saw the tremor in his pinky, and when he smiled, one corner of his mouth didn’t budge. It’d been that way for the past month, but I’d never get used to it. He’d been living with MS for a decade, and a lot of the times, it was barely noticeable, but when he had flare-ups, life could be pretty fucking miserable.

“Didn’t know you were stopping by.” His speech was slightly garbled, but he was still easily understandable.

“Gotta keep you on your toes. Make sure you’re not sneaking in chicks or throwing ragers while I’m not here.”

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, which was a few shades lighter than mine. I’d gotten my freckles and height from him too, but he managed to carry the look with a lot more panache. He’d never had an awkward day in his life.

“What’s up?” he asked.

I slumped down in the white, leather chair on the opposite side of his desk, resting my ankle on my knee. “I got myself into a precarious situation.”

One eyebrow raised. “Did you now? You don’t seem all that worried about it.” He slowly leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “I have to hear this.”

“I agreed to be Yael’s fake boyfriend at her old friend’s wedding.” I took out my phone, scrolling to the picture of Yael and me from the coffee shop we’d met at yesterday morning for our second fake date, and slid it onto the desk for my dad to see. “We’re going on these fake dates so we have proof we’re together.”

Dad studied the picture, his eyes squinting. Finally, he picked up the phone and held the screen close to his face. “Haven’t seen her in a while. I think she got prettier.”

“She’s a monster.” This was said without much conviction, causing my dad to send me a crooked smirk.

He huffed and pushed the phone back toward me. “Looks like you hated every second of being there.”

“I’ve never hated being with Yael. That’s the problem.”

Coffee with Yael had been the adventure being with her always was. She’d been surly and prickly for the first half, twisting every word I attempted to say, but eventually, little by little, she relaxed, and we had a conversation about the band—a generally safe topic. Then we covered ground rules: I’d basically be keeping my dick to myself and displays of affection were only to happen in public—no surprises. On the way back to our building, she tucked her hand in mine for a solid minute before yanking it back with a shudder.

We were a work in progress.

“What does the girl you’re seeing...Rachel, isn’t it? What does she think of this arrangement?” Dad asked.

“Rachel’s never been anything serious. And that ended. I don’t have the time to devote to even a casual relationship right now.”

The hell of it was, I did have the time, but it didn’t feel right to sleep with one woman while dating Yael...even if it was fake. My relationship with Rachel had always been casual anyway, and she’d texted me “good luck and Godspeed” when I told her I needed to step back for a while. So yeah, she wasn’t heartbroken, and neither was I, which had been the point of the entire thing—get off and keep the ol’ ticker intact.

“Tell me what the hell you’re doing with Yael then. Because to me, it sounds a lot like you’re asking for trouble.” Dad’s frown might’ve been wobbly, but it was no less effective.

I lifted a shoulder. “It sounded fun. Getting under Yael’s skin is somewhat of a hobby of mine. Plus, she’s contractually obligated to be nice to me until this is over.” I rubbed my hands together. “Yael Aronson has to be nice—to me. Can you fucking imagine?”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, gaze steady on me. He wasn’t buying what I was selling, and that was because he knew. My dad wasn’t only my idol, he was my best friend. He was well aware of my complicated, sordid history with Yael. He’d witnessed me twisted up and broken over her. He’d brought me back when I’d gone to a place so dark, I never would have found my way out. Hell, I hadn’t wanted to.

I wasn’t a dark guy. My only demon was Yael.

“You think because you’re a rock star now fire won’t burn when you play with it?” he asked.

“I think I could easily get in over my head if I let myself. But I won’t. I’m not a kid. I know there’s nothing there, and there never will be.”

His expression was skeptical as hell. “Do you?”

Jerking my chin, I met his skepticism with assurance. “Yeah. I’m more than aware.”

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