Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

I nodded.

Pinning me with his eyes again, he said, “I mean it, Della. I’m not saying that this is more important than you. Understand?”

Even though I didn’t like the nature of his tone, how condescending it felt, I nodded. Again. What else could I do? Theo had never lied to me before, so why would he now? He hadn’t made me feel like I wasn’t important before, so there was no point to assume that was what was happening. “Understood.”

He watched me for too long, another sigh escaping him nearly inaudibly, before he shook his head and pulled me into his body. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?” His lips pressed against the crown of my skull as my arms wrapped around his waist in a tight hug.

I wanted to ask him to stay, wanted to beg him to give me something. I did neither. I nodded into his chest, breathed in his scent, and stepped back to watch him leave.

When the door clicked closed behind him, I dropped onto the couch and stared at the blank TV screen. As soon as I turned my phone back on a few minutes later, there was a text waiting.

Theo: I already miss you.

Divers was loud when I entered, searching for the face that had called me in tears too early for a bar rescue. Tugging my father’s leather jacket tighter around the maxi dress I’d thrown on quickly, I found the head of raven black hair sitting at the corner of the bar counter.

“Kat?” She turned her head instantly, cheeks damp and eyes bloodshot. Was she…? “I didn’t mean to take so long. Are you okay?”

She blinked at me. “You came.” Her voice was raspy, hoarse, like she’d been crying for a while. Taking the stool beside her, I slid down as the bartender came over with caution in his eyes.

“Of course, I did.” I shook my head when the bartender asked if I wanted something to drink. Then, on second thought, said, “Water?” When he set it down in front of me, I smiled and slid it to Katrina. She murmured something, not touching the cold glass.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her, hoping she’d meet my eyes. When she didn’t, I knew it was something big. “Kat?”

Her head dipped down—the bright eyeshadow painted on her lids the same extravagant color as normal but nowhere near as comforting as it should have been. She had eyeliner smudged under her bottom lashes, making my frown deepen as I examined her paled expression. “I messed up, Della. Real bad.”

“How?”

When she finally looked up, there was guilt weighing down her eyes. It made me lock up, my stomach heavy like I was expecting the worst. My father gave me the same look once. It was the day he was sentenced, right before they took him away for good. Right to his death. He’d looked at me, his eyes burdened, bittersweet emotion in his rugged smile, and said, “I love you, Adele. Remember that.”

“How, Kat?” I repeated, voice breaking, a knot of nerves hanging onto each letter that passed my lips.

Her hands drifted from her lap to the counter, fingers wrapping around the glass but not moving it an inch. “Sam.” Shoulders tightening, she clenched the glass with white knuckles until I thought she’d break it. “Della, do you still have it?”

Brows pinching, I asked, “Have what?”

Her eyes looked around the room before meeting mine again. “It. Do you have it? What I gave you?” My lips parted for a moment before snapping closed.

“Oh my god.” Oh god. The purse in my lap suddenly felt heavier. Much heavier. I hadn’t thought a lot about what I’d kept hidden in the inner compartment since the day I’d dropped it in there.

Kat’s eyes widened wider than mine. “I messed up, Della, but I’m trying to fix it. You have to believe me.”

“What are you—”

“Give it to me,” she whispered urgently, her hand snaking out toward my bag. I kept a firm grip on it, jerking it away. “Della, I mean it. I’m not trying to use. You can’t have it.”

“Are you crazy?” I hissed, getting off the stool and glaring at her. Was that why she made me come? Why she’d been crying? Because she was coming down and needed another hit? “You need help, Kat.”

“I’m not going to use it—”

“Is there a problem?” The bartender looked between us again, his eyes focused on Kat and her shaky hands and red-rimmed eyes. I didn’t blame him for being suspicious. She was clearly unwell. And I’d walked right into it.

“No,” I told him after a moment of breathing. I didn’t want to cause a scene, and certainly didn’t want the cops called. “We’re all right,” I assured him when he didn’t move. It took him a moment before he bobbed his head and walked back to the other end of the bar as an older gentleman called out a food order.

Turning to Kat, I gave her a once over again. Slowly. I was beginning to understand why people always talked about my appearance. It was easy to see when other people were falling apart, even if they hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Watching Kat, her ticks, her harsh breathing, her darting eyes, I’d seen what everybody probably saw of me for so long.

A broken girl.

“You need help,” I told her again, hoping she’d listen to the urgency in my own tone. I didn’t want to see her break. I’d known what that was like and wanted to help. I knew Ren, Tiffany, so many people, have told me not to worry about other people’s problems. I couldn’t ignore it. Kat had been my friend once. We were long past that, though. Our friendship was a distant memory.