Page 102 of Fight For Me

“I do trust you,” he says, then scowls. “Warner is the one I don’t trust.”

“Oh my god, do you know how silly you sound? Warner? You’ve known him since he was nine!”

“And that makes this worse,” he insists. “Hebetrayedus.”

I close my eyes, trying to tamp down my frustration. “I’m going to tell you something no one else knows,” I say. “Not Mom, not even Everly.”

“If you think you’re going to win me over with gossip—”

“Then I would be right because you freaking love gossip and we all know it.” He can’t fight his smile and I relax a little. “This isn’t gossip though. It’s important.”

“Okay.”

“That kiss you saw on TV? That wasn’t our first kiss.” The smile immediately drops away, replaced with fresh anger. I hold up a hand. “Let me finish. I kissed Wyatt two years ago.”

He seems shocked. “Two years…”

“He came home for Silas’s birthday and the older cousins and I hung out with him a lot that weekend. I felt…we had a connection, Dad. Maybe it was just chemistry or maybe it was something more, I don’t know. But I kissed him.”

He narrows his eyes. “And then what happened?”

“He told me we couldn’t do that again, then went back to Seattle and barely saw his family for the past two years.”

My dad’s eyes cloud a little, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It did seem like he was staying away…”

I point at my face. “My fault. He knew I was too young, knew that no one would approve. So he stayed away. He stayed away for a really long time. That connection we felt was too strong for us to be around each other and not do something about it. But he was trying to do the right thing.” My eyes sting with tears. “He fought this for so long, Dad. And it wasn’t just because he knew you’d be pissed. He was worried about me—he didn’t want to hold me back.”

“And he shouldn’t have!”

I roll my eyes. “He didn’t hold me back, Dad. He kept me company when I couldn’t sleep and he took me surfing and he danced with me and always, always put me first.”

He scoffs, but he’s looking much more like his easy-going self. “So what? You telling me you still want to date him?”

It’s everything I can do not to burst into tears again, but I manage, because I know there’s nothing that will upset my dad more than me crying. “I don’t think that’s an option anymore.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You okay with that?”

I shrug, forcing a smile. “No, but that’s life, right?”

His expression shifts to one I’ve seen a million times before—worry. “You’re sad.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“You, uh, want to talk about that part?” It’s obvious talking about the emotional part of my breakup is far down on his list of preferred activities, so it’s nice that he asked.

“It’s okay, Dad. Mom covered it pretty well.” I meet his eyes. “It’s no one’s fault, okay? I really don’t want you to be mad at Wyatt for any of this. And I don’t want it to come between you and Cash. No one did anything wrong.”

“Someone did something wrong,” he growls, looking every bit as fierce as he had when I first came downstairs. “That fucking producer.”

Anger spikes in my gut, too. I’d been so caught up in everything with Wyatt that I’d barely thought about the actual show since last night. But my dad is right—Scott screwed us over.

“Heisa fucker,” I say grimly.

My dad’s eyebrows go up, a smile tugging on his lips. “That’s some strong language, Allie.”

“Well I mean it! He sucks! I want to kick his ass!” I point to his phone on the table. “Call your friends.”

“What?”