What was Dad up to, and what did it mean for us?
“Uh…” I forced myself to pay attention to Dad. “What makes you think I’m not in my room? Did you put a webcam up in it or something? I’m pretty sure I forbade cameras in my bedroom once I hit puberty.”
He snorted. “Don’t play coy with me, missy. I’m here, at your dorm, with your mother—and you’re not here. Where are you?”
“Wait, what?” I leapt to my feet, my pulse racing and my knees trembling. “Why are you here in San Diego?”
Finn cursed under his breath and dialed someone. He grabbed his pants off the floor and stepped into them without boxers, his movements jerky and fast. I picked up my own pants, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder.
Dad sighed. “We wanted to surprise you with a visit. We barely hear from you anymore, and your mother was worried. But all I really care about right now is where the hell—”
“Hugh.” There was a commotion, something that sounded like a fight, and then Mom’s voice came through. “Don’t mind him. We know you’re an adult now and you’re out with friends. We missed you, dear. Where are you? We could come there to meet you and your friends.”
“No.” I shot Finn a desperate look, and he stepped into his motorcycle boots without a word. “I’ll come to you. Just give me, like…?” I shot Finn a look and he held up his hand. “…five minutes, and I’ll be there.”
Mom sighed. “All right. I’ll hold off your father. But hurry up, dear. I need a Carrie hug.”
My heart wrenched with a bit of homesickness, despite the stress of the situation. That’s what Mom called it when I hugged her as tight as I could. When I was a kid, every night she would pick me up and I would cling to her, all arms and legs and giggles, giving her the biggest good night hug I could.
When she let go and I stayed in place without her support, I would giggle harder—until I lost my grip and fell to the bed. Now I was too big to hang off her, but we still called our hugs Carrie hugs. “I’ll hurry, I promise.”
“Give me the phone, Margie.”
“No.”
“Give me the—” Another commotion. “And you’ll be telling me who you were with,” Dad called out. “Missy.”
I could just picture him, pushing in to Mom to get another word in. Finn furiously typed something on his phone. Probably texting my dad in an attempt to cover both our asses before it was too late. Before Finn came under suspicion.
“Oh, leave her alone,” Mom said. “See you soon.”
“Bye,” I said, hanging up. I looked at Finn. “What the heck are they doing here?”
“I don’t have a f**king clue. I didn’t know they were coming,” Finn said, grabbing his keys and heading for the door with large, hurried steps. “Why didn’t he tell me he was coming? This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.”
I followed him to the door, swallowing hard. Half my clothes were hung up in his closet and the other half were on his bed. I grabbed my empty bag. “I’ll clean these up and then—”
Finn waved a hand and made an impatient sound. “Leave them. There’s no time for that. We have to leave, and we have to leave yesterday.”
I hesitated. “It’ll be a little rough for a while, I get that, but why are you so upset?”
“Because I’m wondering why the f**k he didn’t tell me he was coming, why the hell he hasn’t texted me during the past two days, and why, even now, there’s no text from him.” His phone chimed, and he closed his eyes, his jaw ticking. “There it is.”
He took his phone out of his pocket and opened the door for me. He scanned it and typed, while I tried to hold on to my patience. “What does it say?”
“He wants to know where you are.” More typing. “I’m telling him you went out to eat with a new friend. Give me the name of someone you talk to in class. Someone new?”
I scrambled for the first name that came to mind. My lab partner I’d studied with the other day popped into my head. “Susan Williams.”
“Good. He won’t be able to locate her that quickly, so she’s a good cover story. Your dad didn’t tell me he’s here in California, though.” More typing, then he lifted his head. “Keep walking, Ginger. I can text and walk.”
I clenched my fists. “I don’t like this.”
He didn’t look up, just kept typing. “Don’t like what?”
“You’re acting different,” I said, my voice cracking. “Again.”
He’d barely looked at me at all since the phone call, and now he was acting cold. Distant. It freaked me out. Was he regretting the fact that he had me in his house when his boss came to visit? Kicking himself for being with me?
I didn’t know, but I knew something was off.
He looked at me, his eyes as closed off as his voice. “Of course I am. I’m trying to cover our tracks. Your daddy’s out there, thinking God knows what, doing God knows what, and I need to get you there without him knowing where the f**k you were. This is me in work mode, Ginger.”
“He won’t find out. You’ll be fine.”
“No, I won’t be fine.” He pressed his lips together, his nostrils flaring. “Because on top of that, the whole time he’s here I have to stay the hell away from you when I don’t even want to be away from you for a f**king minute. So, yeah, I’m a little bit distracted and cranky, to say the least.”
He hauled me up against him and kissed me hard, not giving me a chance to reply. What would I have said anyway? What he said pretty much summed up my feelings, so instead, I clung to him, knowing we shouldn’t be kissing like this in public, but unable to help myself.
I curled my hands into his shirt, twisting the fabric in my hands. I could feel the tears threatening to escape me, trying to run down my cheeks. But I wouldn’t cry. It wasn’t like this was goodbye or anything. It was a temporary setback—nothing and no one would make me walk away. Not even Dad.
He ended the kiss way too fast, resting his head on mine. “Let’s get you back to your dad. Remember, if you see me watching you—don’t even look at me. Act like you’ve never seen me before. Act like I’m no one and nothing. Don’t save my name in your phone, and no incriminating texts.”
“I can’t even tell you I love you?” I asked, my throat swelling with the tears that were trying to escape.