Page 101 of Fight For Me

“I know. I really am—”

“A little warning would have been nice,” he goes on. “Especially because I was watching that shit with Cash. Who wasn’t really happy about my plans to decapitate that creep kid of his.”

“Dad!” I gasp. “Don’t even say that. You love Wyatt.”

He snorts, turning his attention back to the batter. “Clearly I didn’t know the first thing about him.”

“That’s not true and you know it. He didn’t do anything wrong—”

“He’s ten years older than you!”

I have to bite my tongue not to point out that it’s actually eleven. Probably wouldn’t help the situation much.

“Is age really the most important thing?” I ask. “Aren’t you more concerned with how he treats me?”

My dad throws his spoon into the sink with a loud clang, his face thunderous. “You showed up here last night crying,” he says through gritted teeth. “Hemade you cry.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You never made Mom cry?”

He narrows his eyes. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then? Because I’m not getting it. Yes, he’s older. Yes, we had a fight. I get why you don’t like that. But you know Wyatt, Dad. You know he’s not a bad guy.”

“I trusted him,” he thunders. “He was supposed to look out for you!”

“Hedid.”

He points a finger at me, the effect of his angry stance somewhat ruined by the glob of chocolate batter on his cheek, but I don’t mention that. “He took advantage of you.”

“Oh, please!” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m a grown adult, Dad.”

“You’re my baby girl.”

My heart softens a little. My dad’s being ridiculous right now, but he’s also really freaking sweet.

“You know, I think I lived here too long after high school.”

He looks wounded. “I thought you liked living here.”

“I did. I loved it.” I smile at him. “I’m a giant nerd and we all know it. I like hanging out with my parents.”

“Because we’re awesome.”

“You’re not being super awesome right now,” I point out.

He studies me for a moment before sighing and going over to turn off the music. He grabs two sodas from the fridge and points at the table. “Sit. We’ll talk.”

“Okay. But you’re going to have to finish those brownies later or Mom will have a coronary.”

He rolls his eyes and mutters something that sounds like “spoiled woman.”

“Okay,” he says, popping open his soda and looking at me. “Tell me what you mean about living here too long.”

“I just think it made it harder for you guys to see me as an adult.”

He chuckles, his face much softer than it had been when I came down. “Hate to break it to you, Allie, but it’s never easy for a parent to see their kid as an adult.”

“But maybe if this wasn’t the first time you saw me out in the world, doing my own thing, you’d find it easier to trust me.”