Page 14 of Burning for the Billionaire 7

My gaze flickers to his face.

“I thought if I refused to pay your tuition for art school or help you with your move you’d come back home and go to medical school like I wanted.” The harsh lines of his face soften. “But you’re stubborn like your old man and you made your way. Five years later, you still haven’t run back to me, asking for help. I’m proud of you.”

Almost my entire life, I’ve waited to hear him say those words. I’ve always felt like I failed him, in a way, by not following in his footsteps.

Blinking rapidly to hold back my tears, I whisper, “Thanks, Dad.” Clearing my throat, I ask, “Does this mean you’re going to stop being stubborn and call me once in a while? I hate having to talk to you through Mom.”

His laughter makes me smile because, like Rowan, he doesn’t do it much. Stroking his chin, he peers at me. “You’re more outspoken.”

I shrug. It’s true. Before I left home at nineteen to forge my own path, I wouldn’t have had the guts to call him stubborn to his face. “I’ve learned to stand up for myself.”

“That’s good. So, how’s school going? I’m still peeved about your career path, but I respect your determination, and I truly hope things work out in your favor.”

I suspect he’ll be annoyed for a long time that I didn’t choose medicine. “Thank you.”

“I know it’s late, but can I help you with anything? You’re in your last year, correct?”

I nod.

“Good, good. I’m assuming this semester is taken care of. Would you like me to take care of the next? What about your rent? I hear it’s sky-high in California.”

Rowan already paid for my entire last year of school, and living expenses aren’t an issue for me presently. Heat floods my cheeks. “No, thanks. Everything has been taken care of.”

Dad’s eyebrows shoot up. “Everything? You make good money at the café?”

I snort. “Hardly.” Settling into the recliner, I rest my cheek on my hand and gaze at Dad. This is awesome. We’ve never just... talked.

“You must be struggling a bit after the fire...” Guilt flickers in his eyes before he looks away.

I want to tell him he doesn’t have to feel bad. I just want us to move on from the weird space we’ve been stuck in for years. “I’m fine, I promise. I have a great support system.”

“Who, that man?” he asks with disdain.

“His name isRowan, and yes. He helped me out a lot after the fire.”

Dad narrows his gaze at me. “How exactly has he helped?”

This is getting uncomfortable. While I want to work on having a closer relationship with at least one of my parents, I don’t want us to be this close—discussing my relationship with him is weird. Scratching my head, I shrug.

“You know... with school. And I’m borrowing his apartment...”And he has fed me, clothed me, helped me survive on the whole.

“And why exactly has he been so generous? You weren’t together before the incident.”

I sit taller. Is he implying Rowan was kind to get me into his bed? Staring at him, seeing his clear suspicion, I conclude that’s exactly what he’s thinking. I swear, I feel my blush spread from my face down to my toes.

“He’s just a kind soul, Dad. He had no agenda when he reached out to help me.”

“He’s significantly older than you are. Older men might try to manipulate younger women into their beds.”

“Oh, my God.” I jump to my feet. “We are not talking about my relationship.”

“These are things a father worries about, Grace.”

I really need to get out of here. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise. Thanks for your concern, though.”

He grunts. “I’ve spoken with Rowan some. I suppose he’s not so bad.”

Amusement courses through me. “But?”

---