Page 74 of Hung Up
He’s wearing a plain light grey tee with dark jeans and a pair of white tennis shoes. His hair is a little more white than I remember it being the last time I saw him, the wrinkles on his face starting to appear more defined to show his aging. But his blue eyes—the one trait I seemed to get from him—are still bright and sharp as he studies me. There’s a smile on his face as he steps into the room, closing the distance between us and pulling me into a hug. I hesitate, not reciprocating before he pulls back.
“How’s my little girl?”
A light frown appears on my face as he pushes past me, taking in and judging my hotel room like he does whenever he swings by my apartment. “Umm, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“I came to take you to lunch. Or an early dinner, I suppose.” He turns to face me. “I haven’t seen you in months, shortcake. I was missing you. Plus, I figured I’d come and see for myself what all the hype is about. One of your articles went viral, and now everyone and their brother seem to be watching this bull-riding thing.”
“I wish you had called,” I tell him, letting the door fall shut behind me. But I don’t step further into the room. “I was just about to head to the arena. If you’re staying, maybe we can grab breakfast tomorrow instead?”
“No can do, shortcake.”God, I hate that fucking nickname. “They didn’t have any rooms left, so I’m heading back tonight.”How he planned on ‘seeing what all the hype is about’ then is beyond me.
I sigh, finally pushing past him to grab my work bag before giving him my attention once more. “Well, then we’re going to have to plan some other time. I have a job to do.”
“Come on, Faith. Surely you can have someone else step in for you for one night.” The look he gives me can only be classified as puppy dog eyes, but on him, they just look pathetic. “Please? I never get to see you anymore.”
I tip my head back, looking up at the ceiling. You’d think I’d be so used to these guilt trips by now that they wouldn’t have any impact on me. But unfortunately, it doesn’t matter how old I get—I’m always going to be a people pleaser, it seems.
“Let me text Rylie.”
I turn my back on him and grab my phone, not wanting to see the triumphant look on his face I know will only set me off.
Me
I’m going to need you to step in for me tonight.
Me
I have an unwelcome visitor.
Rylie
Uh oh…do I even want to know?
Me
Drinks later?
Rylie
…it’s your father, isn’t it?
Rylie
What the fuck is he doing here in Billings?
Me
Guess I’m about to find out.
“Well?”
It takes every piece of willpower that I have not to roll my eyes. “Yeah, let’s go.”
We end up at a sports bar, which is fairly packed for four o’clock. But when we sit down and I glance up at the television, I see the pre-event talk for the PBR on the screen. It shouldn’t surprise me that Billings is one of the places where bull-riding is more popular, but it only makes me feel a pang of disappointment that I won’t be there to experience that in person tonight.
“So, work has been going well, I see.” I nod, staring at the menu. “I’m surprised you haven’t given it up yet.”
“And why does that surprise you?” We’ve only been here a few minutes and already he’s pissing me off.
