Nice Guys Don't Win (The Boys #2) - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,64
if you want.”
My fists clench on top of my legs. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
Her dark eyes flit over my face and she sighs, looking away. “You’re probably right.”
Her feet pad down the hall and then her door clicks shut quietly behind her.
“Fuck,” I growl to myself, covering my face with my hands.
What am I doing?
22
Zoey
It’s been two weeks since my ER visit and being smothered with the pure overprotectiveness of Cole. I might’ve balked, but damn if I didn’t actually enjoy it. I saw a gynecologist last week and was basically told it was normal and sent on my way. So much for doctors, huh? I’m going to have to make another appointment with a new doctor and hope I actually get some help.
But now Cole’s gone for an extended weekend in Michigan with his family for Thanksgiving and I’m headed to my dad’s house to spend the day with him, Allison, and my siblings.
Surprisingly, I’m not dreading it.
My relationship with my dad is a work in progress, but we’re repairing it and I don’t feel the need to flee every time I’m in his presence.
I check my appearance one last time—hair curly and wild, simple makeup, and a long-sleeve lavender sweater dress. I figure Allison is the type to want to dress up for the occasion, though no one told me any sort of dress code. But I’m sure my baggy sweatpants wouldn’t have been appreciated. Not that Allison would have said anything even if I did show up in them. She’s too nice for that. I’ll give her credit, she might not be much older than me, but she’s never fit the wicked stepmother role.
Swiping my keys and bag, I head out the door and to their house. My dad said to get there around three and that we’d eat at five.
Before I can back out of my parking spot, I get a text from Cole and smile when I see the selfie of him and what I assume is his mom. The dark-skinned woman is curled under his big arm, beaming not at the camera but her son. Her eyes slightly crinkled at the corners like she smiles and laughs a lot. Before I can reply another photo comes through, this one of Cole on the couch with his four sisters. Two little girls sit in his lap. They must be twins and not older than two or three. And finally, a photo of him and his dad hits my phone. They’re on the driveway playing basketball. The light-skinned man is taller than average, with graying hair and a beard. The look of pride in his eyes as he watches Cole about to make a shot warms my heart.
Me: Your family is beautiful.
He replies immediately. Yours is too.
A lump lodges in my throat and I vow to send him some pictures with my family today. For now, I take a selfie in my car and send it to him.
Me: On my way to their house now.
Cole: You look gorgeous. But you always are.
He’s not even here and I can feel my cheeks heat with a blush. “What is he doing to me?” I say out loud. I stick my phone in the cupholder, choosing not to reply.
Arriving at my dad’s house, I don’t even have my car in park when two little boys come barreling out of the front door.
“Zoey!”
“It’s Zoey! Daddy! Zo-Zo’s here!”
I put the car in park and shut it off, hopping out in time to be tackled by my brothers.
“I missed you!” I smother them in kisses.
Their giggles are music to my ears and tears prick my eyes thinking about how much of their lives I’ve missed out on because I was so fucking stubborn. But no more. These are my siblings and I love them.
“Come on, Zoey.” Isaac grabs my hand in his much smaller one. “Daddy got us a VR headset and it’s so cool. You have to check it out. The zombies aren’t that scary.”
“Zombies?” I squeak.
“It’s not that bad,” Gabriel promises, taking my other hand. “Issy only peed a little bit when it scared him.”
“Great.”
Inside the house, Isaac screams out again, “Zoey’s here!”
Allison’s laughter bounces around the room as she comes into the foyer from the kitchen. “We heard you the first time, Issy.” Smiling at me, she says, “They’ve been asking when you’re getting here since they woke up.”
“Really?” I look down at the two boys who still haven’t let go of my hands.