Page 62 of Manhattan Tormentor

Hell, I don’t understand and I was the one having sex with him last night. From the horrified look on his face this morning, I doubt the experience will be repeated.

“Fine, whatever you want, just don’t get hurt, cub.” mom says, and she stands, grabs her coffee cup and tablet and heads out of the kitchen.

The pain for hurting her doesn’t sit well with me.

“That wasn’t cool, Sage,” dad remarks. “your mom only cares that her cubs are okay.”

“Don’t I look okay? I don’t want my shit to be up for discussion.”

I sometimes wonder why we can get nothing past Noah Fierro. Even Lachlan who is the sneakiest of all Fierro’s, dad would always know what he got up to. We joke that he had tracking chips implanted at birth. He is giving me the all-knowing look as he leans his forearms on the kitchen island and sets his blue eyes on me.

“For someone who was having sex last night, you don’t look okay at all, Son.” He walks around the island and palms the back of my head in the way he’s always done as a sign of comfort, support and more. It doesn’t matter how old we get. I always feel like a kid in front of my dad, and though his tone is even, I know he’s pissed off that I hurt mom. He drops his hand and starts clearing the breakfast things away. When I think he’s dropped it, he cranks his head around the open fridge, piercing me with an astute gaze. “It doesn’t take a genius to guess at that boy’s confusion. He lit out of here like he was on fire. Let me say this to you unsolicited, he has to come to his own acceptance in his own time. And to realize that might never happen.”

I hate the truth being shoved in my face, now more than ever. “It’s fine.”

“Is it? If what Bunny says is true, you deserve more from a partner than to settle for half measures, Sage.”

I snort under my breath, shaking my head a little, and I rise.

“This is all unnecessary, yeah? I’m not marrying him, he’s not the love of my life. We were gaming and fell asleep.”

The lie sits like concrete on my chest. It doesn’t feel good to lie to him.

Dad doesn’t have to say anything, I can tell from his stare what he’s thinking, and he’s thinking I’m full of crap.

Leaving the kitchen interrogation behind. I make my way up the stairs, bypassing Bunny’s room for fear I might throw her out of the window. Grabbing my messenger bag, I sling it over my back. My keys are next and I make a mental note to apologize to mom when I get home. I’ll feel like shit until I do.

I’m in the car with the engine on when I make the call.

His voice is rough sounding.

“Are you at home already?”

“Nah.”

I can’t gauge his mood from that solitary word, so I go on as I pull down the driveway and out of the electronic gate.

“Do you want to meet me for a coffee?”

Crickets chirp back at me, and I’m about to hang up when he rasps. “Yeah, I’ll be less than an hour, I got a thing here first.”

I don’t know what the thing is, but I agree.

I use that time to do a little homework on a secluded table atCafé Bean. When I check the time, more than an hour’s gone by. Frowning at my phone, there’s noI’m gonna be late message. I’m the wrong person to stand up.

He thinks I’m a pushover. I know that much.

Hell, maybe I am. Maybe dad’s right.

I soon set aside everything Finn’s said and done to me this year because I became attracted to him. Taunt me, torment me, but hey, he kisses like a fucking angel, so it makes his treatment okay?

I thought I saw past his disguise, but now I’m not so sure.

“Yo, Sage.” I catch and raise my head expectantly, but it’s only Thatcher. “Man, I’m starving. You want anything while I go order?”

“I’m good with my coffee,” my eyes flick to the entryway. I like Thatcher, he’s a good friend, but I want him gone.

He doesn’t take my silent hints while he plows through two corned beef panini’s and a cookie the size of a football. Talking the whole time, telling me about his upcoming trip to Aspen with his dads and some family friends.

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