Page 38 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

I headed home, making a beeline for my liquor cabinet, grabbing the closest bottle, and sinking to my couch. I flipped on the TV just in time to see the ball drop in Times Square.

I held up my bottle, saluting my reflection on the TV. "Happy fucking New Year, asshole.”

14

Miranda

The minute I left Brett, I wanted to sink against a wall and catch my breath. My legs wobbled and my heart felt like it had been crushed by an anvil. I was a smart, independent woman. How had I allowed myself to be seduced by a man I knew could be so cruel?

I didn't sink into the wall, though. I used the strength I'd found to tell him off to propel me back to the main part of the club and eventually, to the bathroom. Only locked in a stall did I give in to the humiliation and pain. I heaved into the toilet bowl.

"Mira?" Lindsay's voice echoed through the restroom.

"Yeah?" I did my best to hide my tears.

“Have you been here the whole time? I've been looking for you."

"Ah. Yeah.” I hated to lie to her, but it wasn't like I could tell her the truth.

"Why didn't you answer when I was here before?" Her feet appeared under the stall door.

"Uh. I’m not feeling well. I was probably being sick." That wasn't a total lie.

"Oh, no. What can I do for you?”

"Nothing. I'm... I'm going to call for a ride home."

"We can drive you."

"No. I don't want to ruin your night.” I couldn’t allow Lindsay to care for me when my source of ailment was her father. All I wanted was to be alone.

“You're sick. Of course, I’ll take you home.”

"No, please. You stay." I opened the stall and headed to the sink to wash my face and rinse my mouth out. I couldn’t look at Lindsay and not see her father’s face and hear the vile things he said to me.

Lindsay studied me. "You look terrible.”

“I’ll be fine.” And I would. No matter what, I wouldn't let Brett keep me down. “Stay and enjoy the night. Really."

She pursed her lips and then tapped something into her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m arranging a ride for you.”

Panic shot through me. "I don't need a ride from your dad.”

Her brow furrowed at me. "Not my dad. I doubt I could pull him away from that T and A clawing him. Oliver will give you a ride."

"I don't want to ruin—”

"Don't argue. Come on.”

When we exited the bathroom, Oliver was already there. He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Under the weather? Let me get you home.” We walked up the hall to the main part of the club.

“You don't have to drive me home," I said to him.

"Please, let me drive you.”

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