Page 77 of Meet Hate Love
“Don’t be givin’ me no grief, boy. I’m eighty-four years old, and if I wanna smoke with my coffee, I’m gonna have a smoke with my coffee.”
“I love you. But I’m still not bringing you cigarettes,” I said, smiling before I slipped into the hall.
ChapterTwenty-Three
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Disoriented. No. Discombobulated was a better word. That’s what I was the next morning when I woke to the pounding of a jackhammer outside Margot’s apartment window. Man, how I missed the raucous ring of Vance’s alarm—especially when I grabbed my phone and realized it was half-past eleven and I was going to be late for the picnic I’d agreed to have with my dad. Not that he’d expect me to be on time.
I rolled off Margot’s pull-out couch and rummaged through my backpack for something to wear. Everything I dragged out had wrinkles. Maybe Vance had a point about neatly folding things. I decided on a crinkled sundress, then quickly brushed my teeth before shouting to Margot that I was leaving.
Thankfully, the weather wasn’t scorching, which made it a little easier to speedwalk across the city. I stopped across the street from Central Park, texting Vance while I waited for one of the horse-drawn tourist carriages to clip-clop past.
She’s savage AF
He sent me a picture of a gray-haired lady in a hospital gown flipping a bird to a man in a white coat.
From the framed photo on his desk, I would have expected her to be a gentle-mannered, Southern grandma. But from the looks of it, she was a rebel.
Do you know when you’re coming back?
It may have only been twenty-four hours since I’d seen him, but I missed him. Legitimately, hurt-in-my-chest missed him. Something was definitely wrong with me. I’d never been all needy and obsessed in a relationship before.
In fact, every single guy I’d dated had always given me grief about acting too blasé. Sure, I’d wanted to see whoever I was dating, but with Vance, it wasn’t a want. Ineededto see him. I needed to kiss him. Fuck him. It was exhilarating and all-encompassing. It was everything I’d read about in romance books and scoffed at. And I was there for it. One hundred percent there for it with Vance.
My flight leaves early Friday morning. And I’m coming straight from the airport to you.
I felt the smile spread across my face as I crossed the street to the park.
Good.
“Well, don’t you look happy as a lark?”
Pocketing my phone, I glanced up. My dad stood at the edge of the grass, his salt-and-pepper hair in complete disarray and a picnic basket in his hand.
“Hey, Dad!” I closed the distance between us. The comforting scent of Old Spice filled my senses when he pulled me into one of his bear hugs.
“Sorry your trip got cut short, peanut.”
“It’s fine.”
We started across the lawn toward our usual spot underneath the shade of an elm tree, where Dad helped me spread out the blanket. After he’d unpacked the chicken salad sandwiches he always made, I told him about the trip and Vance, leaving out of anything remotely related to Paul or sex.
“Evidently, there is a big difference between the Italian wordspecorinoandpecorina.”
Dad nodded. “The ending is important.”
The ending, in that case, was the difference between ordering pizza topped with pepperoni or ordering pizza topped with “doggie-style.” “The lady taking our order had not found it amusing at all, although Vance had.”
Dad cracked open his cola. “Your face sure lights up when you mention this boy…” He lifted a knowing brow as he took a sip. “Am I going to need to meet him?”
“It’s not super serious.” Because there were things far more serious than falling in love… “But he’s coming to Kate’s engagement party in a few weeks.”
His expression went blank. “You’re going?”
“Yeah.”
He patted my knee. “That’s noble of you. I wouldn’t go if she weren’t my daughter.” Dad had made it known to everyone in the family that he did not approve of Kate and Jimbo getting married. Just like he’d made his disappointment with Kate abundantly clear.
