It’s my turn to duck my head in embarrassment.
“So what are you going to do next?” Dad asks.
“Dex.”
Dad rears back. “What?”
“Shit. No. I mean...” I bite on my lower lip before getting it over with. “I’m seeing someone too. Ethan Dexter.”
Worst segue ever, even if it was probably correct. I really can’t wait to do him again. And again. Shit. I’m blushing now.
Dad stares at me for a long moment, his nostrils slightly pinched, then grunts. “Dexter, eh? I kind of thought you’d fallfor a chef or some sort of arty type—”
“Thanks, Dad.” I don’t bother to clarify that Dex actually is arty.
Dad doesn’t pause. “But he’s a good choice.”
I blink. “Really? You think so?”
“Why not? You like him, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“He’s steady, quiet, honest.” Dad rubs a hand over his face. “Not too thrilled about the idea of youdoinghim, but we’ll just pretend that was never mentioned.”
I bury my head in my hands. “I know. God, I suck at basic conversation with you.”
Dad laughs. “No shit.”
“Can we move along now?” I ask from the safety of my hands.
“Sure.” He falls silent, and I lift my head to find him studying me. “Is he the real deal?”
I’m the one who feels shy now. “Yeah, Dad. He really is. So much so that I’m going to claim him.”
I cringe again. I meant it figuratively, but it probably isn’t something my dad wants to hear. I’m better off stuffing mymouth with dumplings and not talking again.
Fortunately, Dad just nods. “One less thing.”
I don’t know if he’s right, because the fact is, there are things I need to tell Dex too, and I have no idea how he’s goingto take them.
Thirty-Three
Fiona
FearTheBeard:Can we FaceTime?
CherryBomb:On it like a bonnet.
FearTheBeard:Gonna take that as a yes.
CherryBomb::-*
I confess, I fix my hair and put on some lip gloss and mascara before I FaceTime with Dex. Okay, I change my top too. No wayam I wearing my frumpy, knee-length T-shirt withPrincess on the Streets, Ogre in the Sheetsacross the front. Thank you, Gray, for yet another Fiona-themed birthday gift.
Instead, I wear a casual white tank and leave the bra off. If I can’t see Dex every day, I will make the times we do connectcount.
A flutter of anticipation goes through me as I settle down on my bed, my laptop propped on a pillow. Seeing him thisway is a treat and a torture. No matter how good it is to talk to Dex, when it’s all done, I close my laptop alone.
