CHAPTER ONE
I vibrated with nerves all throughout the cab ride. It was spring break, and while a bunch of my friends had gone to Miami to party, I’d taken two busses to get to a small town in the middle of nowhere. It was a pretty, fairytale sort of town. The wide streets were lined with leafy trees and the big houses had gardens filled with roses and penned off with white picket fences.
Even the bus stop I’d been dropped off at had been nice. Tim was supposed to pick me up, but he’d sent me a message —can u take a cab srry— and given me the address for his home.
That was sort of annoying but I couldn’t be mad for long. Tim Carrington was my boyfriend. We were both freshman and had met at a college party last October. For spring break, he’d invited me to his hometown to meet his parents. Correction: parent. Tim had been raised by a single dad, stating that his mother had ‘fucked off a long time ago.’
My best friends Tessa, Phoebe and Grace had all whined when I’d apologetically told them I couldn’t make it to Miami.
“What?” they'd said, shocked at the news. “You’re meant to be partying with us, not meeting some random old guy.”
“He’s not some random guy,” I’d replied, “he’s Tim’s dad. Meeting the parents is an important step in relationships.”
Her friends had rolled their eyes at that. They didn’t like Tim very much, which I couldn’t understand. He was cute and treated me well…most of the time. Sure, sometimes he was a bit forgetful. But he was never cruel on purpose. He was a good guy.
But now that I was sitting in a cab on the way to his house, I started to second guess the whole thing. Was I really ready to meet his dad? What if we were moving too fast? What if Tim’s dad hated me? What if, what if, what if?
Before I could worry any longer, the taxi dropped me off in front of a double-story house painted a deep blue. The lawns were freshly manicured and a pretty vine crawled down the side of the house.
I grabbed my suitcase, took a deep breath, and walked up to the front door. After ringing the doorbell, I took a step back and hastily combed my hair with my fingers, making sure it framed my face nicely.
Wait. What was I doing? Did it really matter if Tim’s dad thought I looked pretty? Well, it was not like I was trying to look pretty forhim. I just wanted to look pretty in general. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t good enough for his son.
The door swung open and standing in the doorway was the most good-looking man I’d ever seen in my life. He was tall — way taller than Tim, which I hadn’t expected. He must’ve been six three or four. He wore a tight t-shirt that showed off the breadth of his shoulders and his huge biceps, and faded jeans. Unlike Tim, he had a jaw covered in scruff, the same deep brown as his eyes and hair.
“You must be Willow, Tim’s girl.” His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine.
“Yes. It’s nice to meet you, Mr Carrington. Thanks so much for inviting me to your home.”
He laughed, which instantly made me nervous. “‘Mr Carrington’ makes me feel about a hundred and ten. It’s Logan. Come in.”
“Th-thanks.” I stepped into the foyer, which was spotless, the wooden floorboards polished. Mr Carrington —Logan, Icorrected myself — took my suitcase. I’d packed for a week but he picked it up like it weighed nothing.
“I’ll show you to the guest room,” he said. “Tim’s not here yet, but I bet you expected that, right?”
I let out a shy laugh. “He is late most of the time.” The whole reason Tim didn’t travel with me is because he was going to a party with his college friends before meeting me. He promised he’d leave in time to pick me up at the bus stop, but I hadn’t been that surprised he hadn’t shown up.
“Awful habit,” Logan said. “He’s been late since a kid and if he keeps going like that, he’ll be late to his own funeral.”
That made me laugh for real, and I relaxed a little. I followed Logan up a staircase, trying not to stare at his wide back. How could father and son be so different? Not that Tim was short by any means, but he was only an inch taller than me. His father in comparison was practically a giant.
“Here’s your room,” Logan said, setting my suitcase down. “Sorry it’s a bit masculine. Haven’t had a woman in this house for a long time.”
The bedroom was gorgeous. Sure, the furniture was all dark-stained wood and the bed had been made with navy sheets, but I didn’t need a bedroom with be all pink and fluffy. A huge window looked over the lush green backyard.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, walking around, looking up at the high ceilings. “Your home’s amazing.”
Logan blushed, which surprised me. I didn’t think guys like himcouldblush. “Built it myself, actually.”
My jaw dropped open. “What? All of it?”
His blush deepened, making him suddenly look a lot younger. “I mean, I had a lot of help. Had to hire electricians and plumbers but…I did a lot. Wanted to save money on labor, y’know? I don’t know if Tim mentioned, but I’m a —”
“Construction worker,” I finished. “Yeah, he did.” I wandered around the room again, suddenly noticing all the intricate details. The crown moulding. The interesting light-fixtures. The subtle pattern on the curtains. Everything came together to make the room feel luxurious. “Holy shit,” I murmured, then slapped a hand over my mouth. Cursing in front of a boyfriend’s parent was something you weren’t supposed to do.
Logan laughed. “You don’t need to worry about swearing. You’re an adult now. You’re a freshman, right? So, eighteen?”
“Nineteen,” I corrected. I had my birthday two months ago. Tim had bought me the prettiest bracelet…after arriving to the party an hour late. And sure had been silver while I only wore gold, but it was the thought that counted. At least, that’s what I’d said to my friends after they shook their heads with disapproving frowns.
