Claimed By Dad's Best Friend: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book Book 146) by Flora Ferrari

Author:Flora Ferrari [Ferrari, Flora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-18T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Riley

I never thought I’d have to make a choice between my dad and anybody else. Especially not since this morning, but it’s starting to look a lot like that. I know he doesn’t want to hear it, but he asked Brad and now he’s asking me, if it’s true.

If I had sex with Brad.

When he asks me, he makes it sound like it’s a bad thing. Like it’s wrong. Which it isn’t.

“Maybe we should talk about this when you’re feeling better, dad. The doctor said you-”

But he cuts me off. He’s more upset than angry. Hurt.

“How long has this been going on, Riley? Now I know why you were so keen to send me off to the doctor… So you could go and… Oh my god…! It’s just…”

I can feel Brad out in the hallway still, even catching one of his mean sounding growls as he tries to muster his patience.

“How long, Riley? I need to know now,” he asks me again, his eyes are moist and his hands are clenched by his sides. I feel bad for him I do, but it’s not the end of the world. It feels like mine is just beginning.

“Since about nine o’clock,” I say, not even trying to sound smart.

Brad groans from the hallway.

Dad buzzes the nurse, who arrives with the doctor. They see how upset Dad is and suggest I come back a little later, maybe alone next time.

“Excitement of any kind, especially talking… shouting? Not recommended right now,” Doc Peterson says, frowning. Gauging the entire situation at a glance.

“Nobody’s shouting…” I murmur.

I look to dad but his face is turned away now, and I feel sorry for him. I wanted him to be happy for me and Brad, hopefully he can be in time. I do get that it’s not the best day for him, being in hospital with his jaw all messed up and the blood poisoning thing. But I really thought he might be happy for me.

Out in the hall, I ask the doctor how long until he gets better, and Brad makes sure he keeps out of the doorway when he puts his arms around me, not wanting dad to see, only so it doesn’t upset him any more than we already have.

“He should be fine in a day or two… he’s responding well to the antibiotics. It’s mainly a precautionary measure to keep him,” the Doc says, smiling curtly before checking his folder and excusing himself to go deal with his other patients. “Oh!” he adds before he goes, “be sure and check in with the nursing staff about your dad’s insurance before you go, thanks.”

I feel my shoulders sink, I feel sick in my stomach. Of all the places to make me feel so ill, in a hospital.

I know we don’t have insurance. We have whatever’s in the bank, which is a float for the postal service and warehouse rent.

We’re not insurance people.

“See, baby. It’ll be alright. He’ll get better in a few days.” Brad says, encouraging me again by rubbing my back, which has a very different effect.

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