“Why wasn’t it friendly?”
“I’m sure it was friendly,” Dad said. “Just different compared to Raleigh.”
I was about to comment when I heard a light knock on the front door.
“Stay right here,” Dad ordered as he jumped up from his chair. He grabbed the loaded Colt .45 tucked in the drawer of an end table. I heard him cock it.
“I’m sure it’s just—”
“Quiet, Brooklyn.”
I obeyed. Whenever my dad got like this, I listened to him. Not listening proved disastrous. I learned from past experience.
Dad peered out of the peephole and sighed. He turned in my direction.
“You know some boy with a skateboard?”
I jumped up and ran to the door. “Yes!”
“What the hell? It’s midnight, Brooke.”
“On a Friday,” I argued.
Dad grunted and returned to his chair.
“Seriously, Dad? You’re gonna sit there when I open the door?”
“You bet I am. With my gun right here in my lap, too.”
I rolled my eyes and opened the door.
Ryan stood in the doorway staring at me. I could think of nothing to say, so I just stared back. He finally broke the silence.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “For showing up here late and for the other day . . .”
“Let’s talk outside,” I said.
“It’s midnight, Brooke,” my father called from the living room.
Oh my God.
“Maybe I should meet your friend first before you go chat outside?” he said.
I had a feeling I knew what was about to happen, but I had no choice.
“Will you come in for a minute?” I asked, and Ryan nodded.
“This is my dad, Mr. Wright,” I said.
I watched my father stand up, the gun nestled in his left hand pointing down while he extended his right. Ryan took it and shook it with what looked like trepidation mixed with a desperate attempt at confidence.
“Nice to meet you, son,” Dad said. “Now what the hell are you doing knocking on my door at midnight?” He looked at his wristwatch after releasing Ryan’s hand. “Correction. Twelve-thirty.”
“I’m really sorry, sir,” Ryan said. “Completely inappropriate, I know.”
“You got that right. Were you thinking I was out of town or something? Did Brooklyn tell you I travel for work sometimes? Were you hoping to get her alone in my house?”
Oh. My. God.
“No sir!” Ryan said. “No no, I knew you were here! I saw you in the window.”
“So you’re spying on us now?” Dad tapped the gun on the side of his thigh.
“No, Mr. Wright! I was riding my skateboard down the street—”
“At 12:30 in the morning? Are you some kind of hoodlum? What’s your number, son? Who are your parents?”
“DAD!” I cried.
My father turned in my direction. There was a hint of humor playing in his eyes and on his lips. I doubted Ryan could see it, but I could because I knew my dad. And I wanted to strangle him.
Dad turned his attention once again to Ryan. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”
I rolled my eyes.
“To talk with her outside for a few minutes?” Ryan offered.
“On the front porch. You leave that porch and I’ll come find you. Do you understand what I mean, Ryan?” Dad sank back down in his club chair and rested the gun on his lap.
“Yes, sir.”
I forgot all about feeling uncomfortable near Ryan for our past make-out session. I grabbed his hand like we were old friends and yanked him outside, all but slamming the front door in frustration and total humiliation.
“Oh my God,” I said. “I’m mortified. I’m so sorry. My dad is just—”
Ryan’s face broke out in a wide grin.
“What?” I asked.
“Your dad is awesome,” he said.
I was completely confused. Awesome? My dad was a nutcase and an embarrassment.
I didn’t know what to say.
“That’s how a father’s supposed to take care of his daughter,” he said after a moment. “I hope I take care of my daughter that way.”
I didn’t get it. I didn’t get Ryan. But he was just as sexy as I remembered him from school earlier today, and now he was standing on my front porch apparently wanting to make things right between us.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For everything. I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed for going so long without making out. Like it’s a big damn deal making out.”
“It is a big damn deal,” he said. “With the right person.”
I shuffled my feet. “Well, I know. But I didn’t mean to act so shocked about it. It’s just that you’re so cute.” I blushed, but it was dark outside, so I knew he wouldn’t see. In fact, it was easy for me to be honest with him out here on the porch in the early morning hours because it was dark. Like a confessional. I could say everything on my heart, I thought, and not be ashamed.