Page 44 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

“Yeah?” Maci whispers.

“We would’ve moved fast,” I tell her. “We would’ve dated and made love, and then, we would’ve taken it to the next step.”

“The next step?” she says softly.

I glance at her, savoring the look of her pursed lips, wide eyes, and the emotion touching every part of my woman. “You know what I’m talking about.” I turn away. “But I can’t say it. If I say it…”—marriage, a life together—“I won’t be able to do the right thing. If I talk about the life we could’ve had—all the moments, all the happiness, and lust—I won’t be able to, to…”

“Be the dad you need to be,” she fills in for me. “Be the dad you always have been until I came along.”

We don’t say anything for a while. Then she says, “It’s the same for me. If I think about it, about you c-carrying me…”

“Say it,” I urge.

She pushes past her emotion, the pain in her voice. “Across the threshold, I’ll want it too badly, and then I won’t be able to be the friend I should be.”

All too soon, we’re close to Kayla’s apartment. We can do nothing except park, head inside, and do our best to make up for the pain we’ve caused. I hate the fact that Kayla has heard the recording. That little prick didn’t have to show her that, but I know he must have if he’s told her his real name. Why wouldn’t he tell her all of it?

CHAPTER 22

MACI

As we walk into Kayla’s living room, I realize my mistake. Lukas and I have arrived together, but I almost laugh at the thought. Does that really matter now? Arriving together? She’s heard us being intimate, moaning, almost having sex, wanting to have sex. This is minor compared to that.

Kayla is sitting on the couch, her hand on Finn’s arm. I didn’t expect to see that. Shouldn’t she hate him? Finn is hunched over, vomiting into a bucket, and crying at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he moans. “Kayla, I’m sorry.”

Lukas glances at me, apparent surprise in his piercing eyes. “Kayla,” he says, turning to his daughter.

I expect to see hatred in her eyes, the resentment that has plagued my nightmares since the steaminess in the pool. Instead, she smiles like she’s relieved. She glances at me, and the smile doesn’t falter.

“Sit down,” she murmurs, seeming too preoccupied with rubbing Finn’s back to note that Lukas and I arrived at the same time.

We sit on the other couch. Finn looks in bad shape, his shirt covered in sweat, his hair shining. He’s got both arms wrapped around a wastebasket.

“What’s going on?” Lukas asks.

“Finn’s told me some pretty crazy stuff,” Kayla murmurs, in that tone that tells me she’s struggling to keep it together. It’s the same tone she had when her mom passed.

“He has?”

Finn looks up, his eyes bloodshot and watery. He looks miserably at Lukas. “I told her everything I had to. All the stuff that was eating me up.”

He emphasizes me. Is that a hint? Is he telling us he hasn’t revealed the recording? Then what else could he have said?

“I didn’t know what to do,” Kayla says. “If I should call the cops.”

“Ashley,” Finn mutters, shuddering as though fighting off a sob.

“Who’s Ashley?” I ask.

“His sister,” Kayla says.

“My big sister,” Finn grunts, “but I had to take the lickin’. I had to take it. Otherwise, that piece of shit would have hit…” He keels over, puking again.

“The cops?” Lukas says. “Explain, Kayla.”

“Finn’s drunk, Dad,” she responds, “but he said?—”

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