Silas: Can we talk?
I expected him to reach out to me today. Silas is a good dude, and we’ve never had issues. His dickhead behavior last night was out of the ordinary.
Me: If it’s about last night, I get it.
Silas: Are you with Grace?
Me: Nah, she’s at the birthday brunch.
Seconds later, my phone rings.
Silas.
“I was an asshole last night,” he says when I answer. “I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but that’s obviously not the case.”
“Nah, dude.” I set my sandwich down and transfer the plate to the coffee table. “I’m buying you dinner for helping me get my head out of my ass.”
“Does that mean you finally told Grace how you feel?”
“Sure did,” I reply with a nod.
“How’d that work out?” His tone is layered with confidence.
“Pretty damn good.” I stretch out on the couch, a dopey smile on my face.
“I’m happy for you, man.” He chuckles. “Looks like you do owe me dinner.”
“Now, it’s time for you and Lola to do the same.” It’s ballsy of me to bring up Lola after what happened last night. “You’re the last couple in our group who needs to get their shit together.”
Our group started out as individuals, and everyone has started coupling up.
“Lola and I are … more complicated than Grace and you,” he says irritably.
I shut my eyes, hating that I need to make this point to him. “Trent was hitting on her. You need to make your move before she gives him a chance.”
He scoffs. “Lola isn’t that fucking stupid.”
I mock his scoff. “Do you remember what you did last night?”
Silence.
I can almost picture him grinding his jaw.
He needs to be hit with the truth.
“You dropped her on her ass on her birthday,” I state. “She walked off with Trent. We both know it wasn’t only a friendly gesture from Trent.”
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, man.”
He ends the call.
As bad as I hate not being at the bar, I’m beginning to enjoy my job at the dealership.
My bank account also likes it.
My coworkers are starting to come around, and there’s a sense of deep pride every time I sell a car. I loved my job at the Twisted Fox, but it’s almost like I hit an achievement each time someone thanks me for helping them get their dream ride.
Another plus?
The dealership is close to Grace’s school, and our lunch breaks are at the same time.
“Hi, Finn!” A bright smile crosses over Rachelle’s face when I enter the school’s office. “You brought Grace and the baby lunch. So cute!”
The more Grace’s belly grows, the more questions she gets. Me bringing her lunch regularly has led some of her coworkers, including Rachelle, to assume I’m the father. I have no problem with those assumptions. Like them though, I’m curious as to who the father is. Anytime the topic is brought up, Grace shuts down. She’s already going through enough, so I’m scared to push her. There’s also the deep pit in my stomach when I think of learning the truth. From the few details she’s told me about him, I already want to kick the motherfucker’s ass. If I find out who he is and run into him, it might cause issues.
“Another visit?”
My gaze moves from Rachelle to find Principal Asshole strolling toward me. He stops behind Rachelle, his fingers gripping the back of her chair, and icily stares at me. Thrusting out his chin, he crosses his arms.
I return his glare. The weird-ass motherfucker keeps creeping up every time I’m here as if he were watching the parking lot. I want to hop over the counter and ask what his problem is, but I can’t. That could result in the end of lunch visits with Grace. I’m sure fighting the principal is a straight road to being banned from the school.
Holding up the bag of boxed chef salads, I smile. “Grace loves her Freddy’s salads.”
“I’m well aware,” Asshole grits out.
The fuck is that supposed to mean?
His response rubs me the wrong way, but I act like it doesn’t.
Don’t let him know his words affect you.
Rachelle smiles again—this one not as genuine as before. “You know where her room is, Finn. Enjoy your lunch.” She’s catching on to his weird sudden appearances too.
“I suggest limiting your visits,” Asshole says, glowering at me. “You’re becoming a distraction to my female employees.”
Ah, there it is.
Jealousy.
Not only that, but his creepy factor also keeps moving up notches.
His female employees?
Rachelle gasps, her face paling.
He curls his upper lip and glowers at Rachelle. “That includes you.”
Not wanting this to go further, I turn and shake my head.
“You’re one weird-ass dude,” I mutter under my breath. Without waiting to find out if he heard me, I yank the door open and leave the office.
The scent of cafeteria food is in the air, and a kid yells, “Hey! I’m the line leader,” before shoving another away.
Grace’s classroom is at the end of the hall, and I tuck the bag of food underneath my elbow as I approach it. The door is open, and I tap my knuckle against it, lightly knocking.
Grace is standing on a chair, taping a poster to the wall. When each corner is secured, she turns to look at me from over her shoulder.
“Hey,” she greets, sliding the tape into her pocket.
Advancing into her classroom, I drop our food and drinks onto a desk and help her down from the chair.
“You need to be careful doing that,” I say, squeezing her hand tight before releasing it and smacking a kiss to her lips. “Don’t they have ladders for that here?”
She pulls the tape from her pocket and drops it into her desk drawer. “Yes, but I hate hunting them down. A chair does just as good of a job.”
“Did something happen between you and the principal?”
I curse myself for asking that so soon. I planned to approach the conversation while we ate, throwing it out there as small talk.
Grace lowers her gaze, her tone turning flustered. “Why … why do you ask?”
“The way he reacts to seeing me isn’t …” I search for the right word to use without sounding too much like a dick. “It’s not normal.”
Jealousy.
That’s what the man exudes whenever he sees me.
“Uh …” Grace bites into her lower lip. “Kind of.”
“Is he …?” I stop, allowing my words to trail off, unable to say them out loud.
“He is,” she says, her voice quiet and shaky.
My chest tightens. I turn my head to the side and tightly shut my eyes, digesting the news. “Oh, wow.” It takes a moment before my stare returns to her. “I guess that finally answers the question of who the father is.”
“It does,” Grace whispers, her hands clutching her stomach. “Unfortunately.”
“Fucking asshole.” I grit my teeth and want to throw the food across the room. “I want to beat his ass.”
My mind scrambles with what Grace told me about him being married and keeping it from her. What a dumbass.