Dylan stepped closer with a smile brightening his face. “You’re not saying that to get me into bed, right?”
“No.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “But if that’s a bonus, I’ll take it.”
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. His fingers skimmed the bare skin of my arms and I shivered.
Then somebody cleared their throat behind me. Dylan lifted his head and grimaced.
“Hey, Dad.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Well, at least I was right about this,” Hank said as I turned around. He leaned against the door frame at the bottom of the stairs. Anger didn’t cloud his eyes, just resignation. And exhaustion. He also looked much older than his fifty-eight years.
Dylan’s arm tightened around my waist as I tried to step away. “What’s up, Dad? You normally don’t just show up somewhere unless you want something.”
I glanced between them. “Maybe I should just –”
“No,” Dylan said, squeezing me tighter. “He won’t stay. He never does.”
“Besides, I’m sure he’ll just tell you what I said when I leave.” Hank strolled to the couch and sat down. He crossed his ankles and leaned back on the cushions where Dylan and I had just ... Thank God he didn’t walk in on that. “You probably think you already know everything anyway.”
He was wrong. All I really knew about their relationship was how strained it was. Dylan didn’t talk about his dad much. His mom was a different story. I glanced up at his closed face. Before Hank had arrived, he’d been open and expressive. I pursed my lips.
“Or maybe not.” Hank dropped his feet from the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe I got this” – he waved his hand toward us – “all wrong.”
“What do you want, Dad?” Dylan asked. His fingers dug into my waist. I tried not to let it show, but it was starting to hurt.
“So he never told you how I met him?” Hank shook his head, a smirk growing on his face. “That I didn’t even know about him until he was twelve?”
My mouth fell open, and I glanced at Dylan. He’d closed his eyes.
“Cheryl used to be one of my biggest fans. She was only eighteen when I met her.” Hank grinned and kept his gaze fixed on Dylan. “She helped write some of my biggest hits. Dylan knows about that. What he doesn’t know is how she fucked my drummer.”
“That’s a lie,” Dylan snapped.
Hank’s gaze never wavered. Neither did his story. “She’d never tell Dylan that though. Cheryl and I’d been together six years by the time I caught them. Fired his ass immediately.”
“Stop,” Dylan said without the force.
“Why? You always wanted my side of the story, didn’t you?” Hank’s gaze darted toward me for a split second. “Might as well tell your girl too, so she knows what she’s getting into. The apple don’t fall far from the tree, son.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“You’re right. You’re a lot like your mother.”
“You son of a bitch.” Dylan stepped around me toward the couch.
Hank shrugged. “It’s not a good thing or a bad thing, just a thing.”
“I thought you and Cheryl were married,” I said, totally confused by this entire conversation.
“Oh, we are. We have been since she was nineteen.” Hank sat back and put his feet on the coffee table. “We just spent thirteen years apart. She took off when she found out she was pregnant.”
“She tried to tell you.” Dylan pressed his palms into his eyes. “She told me that she tried to tell you many times.”
“Trying is a person’s way of saying they didn’t put much effort into it.” Hank shook his head. “I didn’t know. She hid you from me. And now you hate me. I get that. Cheryl’s a great woman who made mistakes. She’s the love of my life. That’s why I won’t divorce her. Had nothing to do with pride or losing my money. I loved her. I still do.”
I felt like a fly on the wall witnessing the downfall of my boyfriend’s reality.
“Look, Dylan, I wasn’t there. I get that, but you have to understand I didn’t know.” Hank stood and walked back toward the stairs. “We can’t change the past. If I could, I never would’ve let your mom out of my sight for a minute. And I would’ve been there for my son.”
I listened to the stairs creak under his heavy steps. Dylan’s shallow breathing echoed each one. When the front door closed with a loud click, he picked up the chair he’d been using as support and dropped it hard to the floor. Then he did it three more times. Without looking back at me, he ran up to the main floor. It took a few minutes before I got up the courage to follow him. When I made it to the top, I wished I hadn’t bothered.
“How could you lie to me?” Dylan screamed. “All this time, you fucking lied to my face. You’re just as bad as he is, you know that?”
I stood in the living room, not sure if I should stay or leave. This was clearly outside my world. My parents had been together through thick and thin. Especially the thin, because that’s all we’d known for the last few years.
“I can’t do this bullshit anymore,” Dylan said. “I’m done.”
A door slammed down the hall. Dylan stormed into the living room, stopping when he saw me.
“Do you want me to...” I pointed toward the front door. “You know, go?”
He walked toward me slowly and took my face in his hands. The searing kiss shook my knees. “I’m nothing like them,” he whispered against my lips. “I don’t know ... I don’t know what I am, but it’s nothing like them. She admitted it. All of it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He pressed his lips to mine again. “Why? Why lie to me? Why bullshit me? Why me?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled him
