Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

She giggled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll be back down soon enough. Want to grab a drink with me?”

I wanted to be nice and say yes, but my head was already light and fuzzy, and all I wanted was to go home and sleep tonight off. If Ren was busy with Ben, that meant heaving to find somebody else to get me home, maybe Dallas, a driver Sophie hired for me when the one my father employed was let go right after the arrest was made. “I really shouldn’t. I’m going to find Ren. I kind of want to head out.”

“You just got here!” She normally stayed until the middle of the night, but that wasn’t me. Not even on the days I was sober, maybe especially then. Seeing what the people here did without a care in the world made me realize how much I didn’t fit into their crowd. Or any crowd, it seemed. Plus, there were still people who gave me one look and started whispering. Probably about the scandal and my father, maybe about the articles online on me. That was when the tingling started, the itch of anxiety creeping up the back of my neck like prickles of heat sent to taunt me as they watched me.

I waved despite Rita’s protest and gave her an apologetic smile. Evan’s eyes were still on me like a hawk, following me as I weaved through the crowd. They were narrowed and it made my skin crawl, so I stayed vigilant of the way he moved a few feet behind me like he didn’t want me knowing he was but was too smashed to be as stealthy as he wanted. Even a few of his frat brothers had talked about the growing difference in him over the past year. He was always annoying, but then he turned into a drunken stoner who acted out like he had nothing left to lose. Maybe if he wasn’t such a pest to me, I’d find it in me to care, even be concerned.

My hand found the phone in my dress pocket, speed dialing Lawrence by muscle memory as I pulled it out. He didn’t pick up, making me wonder just how busy he got with Ben as soon as they’d found a place. There was a chance they’d gone to his room, but there were too many other ones in the house for me to check and the stairs were packed full of people already.

Blinking back exhaustion, I stumbled into a few partygoers when my legs became like jelly beneath me. I murmured an apology that a few people brushed off, while a guy I recognized as Ren’s teammate looked me over with concern from where he was talking to somebody by the refreshment table. I thought his name started with J. Jamie? Jacob? It didn’t matter.

I dragged my hand along the wall until I made it outside, my fingers dialing a different number as my feet became heavier.

He picked up after one ring. “S-Something’s wrong,” I slurred, dropping onto an abandoned beach chair outside the house. There were a few people mingling, one couple making out on the lawn, and empty cans and red cups littering the freshly mowed grass.

“Where are you?” His voice was clipped, but there was enough worry etched in it to make me think it wasn’t because I called. At least, I hoped it wasn’t.

I was pretty sure I gave him the address, but my brain shut off somewhere between sitting down and saying anything to him. My phone was on my lap, my eyelids blinking heavily, and my mouth like lead to the point I couldn’t move it. A voice in my head told me to stay awake, but it was hard to listen.

It was sometime later when I heard my name being called before familiar hands found my arms. His deep voice barked at somebody before I was being lifted.

“Della?” A new voice said from close by. “Jesus Christ, what happened?”

“What happened,” the man holding me spat, “was that you left her alone at an STD fest. What the fuck did you think would happen?”

My eyes cracked open slightly to see Theo’s hard face glaring over me. I didn’t turn my head, but I recognized my best friend’s voice as he replied, “I’m sorry. Shit, I was just—”

“Does it look like I give a shit what you were doing?” Theo snapped, his grip tightening around me. His head shook as he carefully adjusted me in his arms so one of them was perched behind my knees and the other supporting my back.

“I’m sorry. As soon as my buddy noticed she was acting off, I came as soon as I could.”

/> Theo didn’t grace Lawrence with a reply before turning. His eyes found mine as we walked, the cold air making my overheated body feel better despite the goosebumps that formed from the way his gaze bored into me. “What did I tell you about drinking at these?”

I couldn’t answer him. He swore again.

I tried saying something, but he just quieted me, yanking open a door before carefully draping me on cool leather seats. I didn’t remember what happened after that except drifting off to the familiar and easing scent of tobacco and cologne.

Chapter Two

Theo

The last thing my dick should have done was get hard when I stepped back from pulling my comforter over Della’s sleeping form, but it became suffocated behind the zipper of my slacks as soon as I saw her curl into my sheets, knowing she’d smell like me.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, closing the door behind me. As much as I wanted to make sure she was okay, I didn’t need to watch her sleep before going to the fucking master bathroom and rubbing out a permanent hard on that appeared whenever she was around.

Dropping into the leather chair in my home office on the other end of the house I won during my divorce, I scrubbed a palm down my face and eyed the tumbler of amber liquid left abandoned when I got the call. I wanted to drain it, pour another one, and dive back into the work still sprawled across my otherwise organized desk. Unfortunately, the reason why that was a bad idea was sleeping in my bed.

Somebody had drugged her drink, I was sure of it. And her own friend, the one she told me countless times always protected her when they were out, couldn’t even keep his dick in his pants long enough to make sure she was good. Blood boiled under my skin thinking about the pretty boy who she shared a past with—one I wasn’t stupid enough to believe was just platonic. I’d seen the way he stared at her ass when she swiveled those goddamn hips she grew into. She didn’t seem to know people like him watched, but they did. It wasn’t always because of her past like she assumed, it was out of desire and it pissed me off.

She’d denied ever getting involved with Pretty Boy, the McKinley kid, for years. I’d known better than to believe it because they were always pushed together by Sophie. I didn’t give a shit if she thought they made a cute couple, it was only a matter of time before the kid wanted to start pushing his luck with her. I was a teenage boy once too and knew what my dick wanted. Anybody with eyes could see that would happen between them at some point.

“Fuck,” I repeated, gripping the nearest manilla folder and studying the contents to shove the thought out of my head. I didn’t want to think about who Della had been involved with in the past. I knew for a fact it wasn’t many people at all. Pretty Boy was definitely one, and maybe the Phelps kid who hung around her a few summers before her father’s arrest. The only good thing that came from that was the Phelps family and their kid, who I didn’t care enough about to remember the name of, left Della alone when news broke because they didn’t want to be involved with anybody that had the Saint James last name. I’d seen what it did to Della, but I couldn’t get myself to care because it meant I didn’t have to threaten some asshole over how they treated her.

Focusing on work helped, it always did. Not just because of Della, but life. The divorce. The drama. The gossip. Then the trial. I dove into what I did best—making money. I hardly made friends in my line of work because that wasn’t what I set out to do. Most people I encountered only wanted to use me for my bank account anyway, so it wasn’t worth it. Anthony had been the only true friend I trusted, and not even what he’d done wavered that.

Work was the same bullshit, different day as I stared at the files. Numbers in black that had more zeros than most people saw in their lifetime and names of millionaires attached that I knew for a fact were too full of themselves for their own good. Most days, I liked my job. The business world was one where I got to get shit done in my own way, at my own pace. Typically, it was straight to the point without the bullshit attached.

Before Anthony Saint James became governor, he’d once been a partner in my consulting firm that I started shortly after acquiring my master’s in business from NYU. He had set his sights on something else, something bigger, while I was content staying on the sidelines and watching him get everything he wanted. In fact, I encouraged him. That was what friends did and I was happy to see him achieve whatever the hell he put his mind to because it meant something to him.