EMILY
AS PATRICK UNBUCKLES HIS SEATBELT, I do the same. Patrick is too distracted to object, his attention already focused on his father.
"Dad, what the fuck?" he says, coming to the front of the car. "You can't even let me through the gates?"
I get out of the car.
It's cold and windy outside. The wind picks up my hair and tosses it all around me. I left it long and loose. A rarity for me these days. It draws too much attention.
I didn't think it would be a problem with Patrick's dad, though.
Except his dad is Garrett.
Everything in me feels like it's short-circuiting. The sound of the wind fades, my pulse pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
This is the man who kissed me senseless, whose voice still lingers in my head calling me baby girl.
The man I've been daydreaming about, fantasizing about, like a lovestruck idiot.
Now standing there, the father of the boy beside me.
It feels impossible. Wrong. And yet I can't look away.
