Page 42 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

If she was overdoing the studying, then it wasn't my fault she left, right? "How could she pack up her stuff so fast and leave before you got home? Where did you go?” Realizing my noodles were about to overcook, I pulled them from the stove and drained the water.

"I went to Liam's.”

I ran cold water over the noodles to stop them from cooking. Lindsay became quiet, so I turned to her as the water ran.

Lindsay gave me a sheepish smile. "I got back Tuesday.”

I frowned. "When did you leave?”

"Saturday."

I arched a brow. "Did you talk to her during that time?"

"No, but we talked before I left, and everything was fine. I know she wasn’t sure about Liam, but she wouldn’t just up and leave because I was spending so much time with him, would she?”

I didn’t think so, but how well did I really know Miranda?

“I tried to text and call, but her phone was disconnected.”

"Is she having financial problems? Maybe she had to move home," I offered, reaching back to turn off the water.

"Then why not tell me?"

“Maybe she's embarrassed or proud.”

Lindsay shrugged. "It seems like she just wanted to get away from me."

Was that my fault? Was Lindsay a constant reminder of what a dick I’d been to her?

“Maybe I should have known something was wrong when I found her puking in the bathroom at the club on New Year’s.”

"Puking?" Jesus fuck, this was getting worse and worse.

“Something made her sick, so Oliver took her home, but maybe it was the start of whatever had her leaving." Lindsay's eyes filled with tears. "I should have gone home with her. Maybe I shouldn't have been gone so much.” She’d gone from being angry to feeling guilty. She’d have to stand in line because I was reeling from the guilt.

I pulled Lindsay in for a hug to comfort her as I considered that Miranda became sick due to the way I treated her. Or hell... could she be pregnant? I dismissed that thought because it had only been a week, ten days at the most, since we’d first had sex. I knew from when Lindsay's mom got pregnant that it took several weeks before we knew if she was pregnant, and it had been a few weeks more before she felt symptoms.

Lindsay sniffed and pulled away. "It was shitty of her to leave like that.” She was moving back to being pissed. It occurred to me that she learned that behavior—getting mad when you couldn’t manage your own feelings and taking it out on others—from me.

"Have you gone to her home to ask her what happened?”

"No. She was loud and clear that she didn't want to be my friend anymore. Besides, I don't know where her dad lives."

"Really? You're good friends with her, but you don’t know—”

"It’s South Side somewhere. I bet she doesn't know where you live,” she said defensively. Then she frowned. "Did she say something to you at Christmas? Was she pissed that I didn't make it?"

I swallowed as memory after memory of Miranda and me flashed in my brain. "She didn't give me that impression."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I’ve already given her room to Oliver. Since he and Liam were living together and needed to move, I said they could move into my place.”

My gut tensed again, but this time it had to do with the idea of my daughter living with a boy. “By move into your place, do you mean Liam and Oliver will share Miranda’s room?”

She gave me an eye roll. “No.”

"What the fuck, Lindsay. You're moving in with a boy you just met?”

She shook her head and pursed her lips. "I didn't just meet him, Dad. It's been nearly six months.”

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