Page 4 of Bad For A Weekend

Since when am I attracted to hands?

“Baylor, don’t be rude,” Dad chides.

Since I’m still on Ziggy’s back, I pat his shoulder, encouraging him to set me down. He carefully places me on my feet, keeping an arm around my waist since we ditched the crutches upstairs.

“Hi.” I place my hand in his, and instead of the firm shake I’m expecting, he uses barely any pressure. Like he thinks I’m fragile or delicate. I’m not, but he doesn’t know that about me yet.

“Nice to meet you.” He releases my hand and holds it out toward Ziggy. “And you are?”

“I’m Bay’s bestie, Ziggy.” He flashes his signature cheesy grin.

Owen simply nods, takes a step back, and holds his hands behind him, his gaze shifting to the wall. I look over my shoulder, but nothing’s there. What’s he looking at? Strange.

“Owen will be your driver and be with you whenever you leave the house,” Dad says.

We didn’t talk about specifics before now, but when he said he was hiring someone, I assumed it was for when I went to concerts and events, things like that. I’m an average eighteen-year-old with a busy social life. I never would’ve agreed to this if I’d known it was for every minute of the day.

Especially not with this guy. He’s too attractive to have around all the time. I’ll be too self-conscious.

“Dad.” My tone is laced with annoyance. “School?”

“Not during school hours, but he will be there for all school functions.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

I’m suddenly flooded with visions of this man standing between me and my prom date, sharing popcorn with me while at the movies with friends, and getting his nails painted at sleepovers. It’s a little funny and a lot absurd.

This can’t be happening.

“Do you want him to share a room with me too?” I sass.

“Of course not.” Dad turns to Owen. “He’s staying in the guesthouse.”

He’s got to be joking.

Owen shifts his weight, Ziggy’s mouth drops open, and I scowl.

“You’re taking this a bit too far, don’t you think?”

Dad takes me from Ziggy’s hold and helps me to the couch. “You know you’re the most important thing in my life. You always have been.” He swallows, telling me more with his eyes than with his words.

Last month, he went through a terrible breakup with an actress named Veronica. She dumped him because, according to her, Dad wasn’t giving her enough attention. In other words, he spends too much time with me. But I refuse to feel bad about it. Dad is invested in my life. He puts me first, and a lot of women can’t handle that. They’re jealous. Which is weird because he’s my dad; of course he puts me first.

And now my senior year is coming to an end. I have awards ceremonies, cheer competitions, and all the activities that come with pre-graduation. Dad even put off filming his next movie so he could be here for all that. Maybe he should date women with children and not women half his age.

But that’s a whole other discussion.

“I know, but this feels like overkill,” I try to reason.

“You won’t even notice him.”

I look the oversized man up and down. “Doubtful.”

It feels weird to talk about him while he’s in the same room, but he doesn’t appear to be paying us any attention. His gaze is still locked on the wall across the room. Weird dude.

“Just give it a chance. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll reassess.”

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