She was teasing, trying to make light of our relationship, trying to make me feel better about her place in my life, just in case, but I already knew, I was done.
She owned me.
“Well, I could have just told him you were my prostitute, that would have gone over better.”
“Every man needs sex before surgery.” She nodded seriously.
“Yes! You get me!” I raised my hand for a high five.
She rolled her eyes then hit it. “I need to stop encouraging you.”
With a laugh, I brushed a kiss across her lips, “We should probably call Jay.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Zane
AN HOUR LATER, WE had a rented stretch limo.
With two SUV’s following.
Alec, Demetri, and their wives plus the baby in one, and Jay’s crew in the other.
Dani and Lincoln decided to ride with Jay, but I knew they were probably regretting it by now. Jay drove like a maniac and still managed to forget to drive on the right side of the road. Often. It was his thing, well that and threatening Lincoln, who was still sleeping with his wife Pricilla’s sister, Dani.
Fallon read all of the instructions out loud while I tried to get her to underage drink so she wouldn’t stress out.
She said no to wine, champagne, beer—everything.
If you can’t have it—I don’t want it.
That was Fallon though.
She even handed me her chapstick for safekeeping. Ugh, I was so far gone if chapstick did it for me like a freaking promise ring or something.
Her parents weren’t thrilled that she was traveling with me to Portland. Then again, all she did was explain the situation. They were completely silent, both of their expressions blank, purposefully blank.
Like they were both afraid to stare at me with pity but at the same time, what could they do when their daughter left town with one of the biggest celebrities in the world, only to know, deep down, that she might not be the same person when she got back.
Because that would all depend on the celebrity.
And his ability to not turn into a vegetable.
Something I couldn’t really control, no matter how much I wanted to.
Her father’s stern expression wasn’t at all helpful when Fallon ran around the house and started packing a weekend bag.
“Son,” His lips thinned into a tight line. “These doctors, you trust them?”
What an odd question. “Sir, I don’t know them.”
His frown deepened. “Do you need me to come with you? Talk some sense into them? Maybe give them the run down on how important you are?” His grip tightened on the gun he was cleaning. I swallowed a laugh. “Because, I’d be more than happy to put my foot down.”
“And if it just so happens to land on the doctor’s foot?” I asked, smiling.
“Then at least the doc will know I mean business.” His face paled. “I don’t trust doctors.”
“She’s one of the best in the country, but I appreciate the gesture.” I held out my hand to shake his, it seemed like the right thing to do.
He stared at my hand then pulled me in for a gruff hug, slapping me three times on the back so hard that had I been choking he would have just saved my life—with every slap.
“You’re going to be just fine.” His voice was gruff. “A father knows these things.”
“I wouldn’t know.” It slipped out before I could stop it.
He pulled back and nodded. “Well, now you do.”
Quietly, he went back to cleaning his gun, stabbing something into the front of it.
“Yeah.” I said in a low voice. “Now I do.”
“Sit down.” He pulled out a chair. “Pacing makes a man nervous. Now, hand me the grease.”
We sat in silence.
No more words were exchanged on my end, but he felt the need to talk to me about gun safety for the next ten minutes. I think it was his way of getting me to relax.
Oddly enough, it worked, and by the time Fallon and I got into the waiting limo, I was a different person from the scared boy who had walked into that house.
All because another man had told me it was going to be okay.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it or even logically explain why his words calmed me down—but they did.
Maybe because he was logical, thoughtful, didn’t just throw meaningless words into the air because he wanted to be heard. People like Fallon’s dad spoke with purpose; they made you want to listen because it was rare that they spoke in the first place.
He was a real man, her father.
I liked him. Maybe in another life, I could have gotten to know him better.
But that choice was getting ripped from me, just like my grandmother, just like the family I’d always wanted but never had.
“Hey, it looks like they’re going to have to shave part of your head.” Fallon scrunched up her nose as she kept reading the discharge papers, “Just the right side though.”
“That’s going to look hot.” I laughed as the limo pulled onto the highway. “Watch it become a trend.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be a hashtag in a few hours.”
“Yeah.” I had to focus on the teasing, because if I thought about someone cutting into my skull it kind of made me want to puke.
The car fell silent.
I wanted to be that guy, the one that cheered her up, that made her laugh, that walked around naked and belted out shit about marshmallows, but my happy was gone, it was currently circling the drain and wondering if it was going to disappear altogether or suddenly get a life raft thrown at it.