Page 26 of The Other Guy

“I need an excuse to see my favorite son?”

“I’m telling Lily’s husband you said that,” I tease, slapping him on the back as I pull out of his arms. His daughter Lily got married to a great guy and my parents took Drew in like he was their own. Just like he did with me. Drew grew up in foster homes, and has no family of his own which meant that when he and my stepsister got together my parents only stepped up their pushiness into his life. In the nicest way possible, of course. They made sure he knew how welcome he was in our family.

Dad takes a seat across from my desk and I walk over to my mini-fridge, pull out two bottles of water, and hand him one before sitting down.

“Thanks,” he says, taking a drink. “So… you threw your phone down like it was offending you. What’s up?”

I groan and drop my head, not wanting to get into it. Or rather, not wanting to hear a lecture from him about how I should have put a stop to this a long time ago or the fact that I should have never talked to these women the way I did.

“That bad, huh?”

“Probably worse,” I admit. “I managed to somehow get myself mixed up in a problem that I don’t know how to get out of.”

His eyes widen. “Am I going to be a grandpa?”

My lips split into a small grin. “Nope.”

“Damn.”

“Dad! I’m not even seeing anyone.” I chuckle.

He shrugs. “Hey, can you blame me?”

“Uh, yeah?”

We both laugh this time because I know he’s kidding. Not that he doesn’t want to be a grandpa at some point in his life.

“So tell me what your phone did to you.”

“It’s not my phone… it’s my number neighbor.”

“I’ve heard the term,” he says, nodding knowingly.

“Some ass has been using my number to hand out to all of his one-night stands.”

He pulls a face and curls his lip. “Well, that’s… gross.”

Gross. That’s one way of putting it.

“So, how many texts and calls have you been receiving?”

“Calls? None. Texts? Enough to consider changing my number.”

He hisses, sucking in air through his teeth and settling deeper into the chair, lifting a booted foot to settle across his knee. “Sounds like fun. I take it the messages you’ve been receiving haven’t been pleasant?”

I feel my cheeks heat like I just got caught making out in my bedroom with my girlfriend in high school. Dad notices, of course, and settles in like he’s about to be told a story. “I have a feeling this is going to be good.”

“Let’s just say I’ve seen some things I can’t unsee.”

“Oh, boy, that’s not good.” And by the face he’s pulling, I know he means it. He isn’t the kind of man who would reach over and hope to get a glimpse at whatever I can’t un-see. He’s a man of integrity and one who would sooner cut off an arm than disrespect my mother in any way. It’s one of the reasons I was proud and honored to take his last name at seventeen years old. My biological father certainly didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah. It’s been a little obnoxious.”

“By your reaction, I’d say it’s more than a little.”

“It is but… things are complicated.” Wincing, I admit, “Well, word is getting out.”

“About?”

---