Page 64 of Burning Skies
When I pick up, my father’s pissed. “Ian says you blew him off last night.” There’s no hello or greeting. He just dives into business.
“He’s an asshole, Dad. I’m not going out with him again, much less marrying him.”
“He says you’ve been dating someone else.”
“I only said that because I was upset.” Besides, Beau and I weren’t really an item until last night, so I’m not exactly lying. “Did Ian tell you he was setting up a booty call with another woman right in my face while we ate dinner? That he ignored me the entire night to text her?”
My father sighs. “Look, a man like that has needs.”
What the hell? “Like you, right? That’s why you cheated on Mom. Because youhad needs.” Ew.
“Watch your mouth.”
“If you like him so much, you marry him.” Click.
Shocked I hung up on my father, I stare at the phone. He calls back, but I turn off the ringer and put it face down. Mature, I know.
I’m too stressed out to concentrate after that, so I watchPoldarkon Netflix. After a few hours of historical romance therapy, I sigh. I love that Ross Poldark marries his scullery maid, Demelza. And I love that she has fire and stands up to her father.
Because I’m having a tough time doing that at the moment.
If I know my dad, it’s going to take more than a few firm words to convince him I shouldn’t marry Ian.
By Monday morning, I’ve missed five more calls from my irate parent, but I’m not ready to talk to him after what he said.
Pretty sure I have a permanent frown affixed to my face until I get Beau’s texts.
Beau: Hey, gorgeous. Missed having you in my bed this morning.
Me: I’m always happy to be your little spoon.
Beau: Maybe this weekend, you could stay over after our date? For some more spooning? ;) We’ll lock the door this time so we don’t get any more intruders.
Me: I’m all yours, handsome.
I grin at the screen, excitement buzzing through me at the thought of spending another night with Beau.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” Trish says as she pauses by my desk.
I put my phone away, hoping she didn’t read my texts. “How was your weekend?”
“Not bad. Since I’m on the holiday committee, I thought I’d get a head start, so I got some decorations for the front office.”
“That’s nice of you. I’m sure the principal will appreciate it.” I gather my things for the next class. Thankfully, the rash on my neck has faded.
Leaning closer, Trish whispers, “Did you hear about the pooper?”
“Um. What?”
“The pooper?” She glances around the office like she’s afraidsomeone will overhear. “Someone’s been pooping in the stairwells. One of the teachers in the science department calls him the Mad Crapper. They’re going to set up a sting operation to catch him.”
“Okay.” That seems a little extreme, but what do I know? “Frankly, I’ll take turds over a fire.” The whole school smells like an ashtray. The administration left all the doors open and fans to air out the fire in the teachers’ lounge, but it’s going to take a while before the smell goes away.
Her nose wrinkles. “Poop carries diseases.” She starts to list them, and I shake my head. I’m not discussing poop-transmittable cooties with this woman.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to be late to my class. Gotta go.” I’m heading down the long hallway to the other side of the building when I see a familiar redhead. “Hey, Paige.”
When she sees me, her face lights up. “Hi, Honey.”
