her breakfast, and I take a bite of the eggs on my plate. I tossed and turned all night and not because of the shitty accommodations. I can’t get that fucking social worker’s words out of my head.
That I'm robbing Bree of a good life. I can’t give her any of the things the Herringtons can. I can barely take care of myself. And I can’t ask Blair to do this forever.
“I can take you to school, string bean. If you want.” I look over at Blair.
“I’ll take her.”
She takes another bite of fruit. “I don’t mind. I just thought I’d offer since it’s the opposite direction for you.”
Bree, of course, doesn’t really express her opinion either way. “Whatever.”
“I’ll take you today.” My nerves are on high alert, and I have an overwhelming need to make sure she’s safe.
Not that Blair can’t keep her safe.
Bree stands up after finishing most of her breakfast. “I’m gonna go read before school.”
I nod, and she leaves as Blair turns to me. “I’m not trying to step on your toes. I really don’t mind.”
“You’ve done enough. I told you, she’ll be my responsibility.”
She looks wounded by my words, and it’s beginning to annoy me that she’s starting to act like an actual chick and not the Blair I know.
She’s studying me, and I don’t fucking like it. “Stop.”
She rolls her eyes and looks away. “Right. No eye contact. I thought that was just when we were fucking.”
I glare at her, my jaw clenched tight, hating how that fucking stung. “Just stop trying to dig deeper. I’m not a deep well, Blair. I’m just a shattered surface.”
Her eyes meet mine again. “You should be a poet.” She’s being sarcastic, of course, as she takes a drink of her coffee. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Too fucking much.” I stand up from the table, but she does too.
“No, I mean something new is eating at you. You got temporary clearance to be her foster dad. Is it getting approval for longer?”
Yes. And no. I’m starting to think Gillian has some serious pull. “I just don’t know if I’m doing the best thing for her.”
My teeth are nearly grinding in my mouth. Doubt is a motherfucker, but how can I not doubt this? I’m a street kid from nothing. I don’t know how to be a parent. I barely know how to function.
“What’s making you second guess this?”
Every fucking thing. But I don’t tell her anything. That leads to more talking, and I just want this shut down. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Oh bullshit. Look, I know you don’t like it, but I can read you.” She shrugs. “At least better than most. Just tell me because you dragged me into this. You made me your partner, so you have to talk to me.”
“Jesus, Blair. Do you ever shut up?”
Most girls would cry. Not Blair. “No, and I won’t. I’ll hound your ass until you tell me, which is exhausting for both of us. So just fucking tell me.”
My hand grips my hair, threatening to pull it out of my head. She gives me a headache. “The social worker is against it. Said I was cheating Bree.”
“That bitch.”
I drop my hand. “Yeah. But she’s right in a way.”
“Bree is afraid of that asshole. You aren’t cheating her. You’re protecting her.”
And now it’s pretty clear she believes me about Bree needing to be away from that man. “I don’t mean she should ever go back to him, but . . .” She’s listening too intently, paying attention to my every move. I hate feeling this vulnerable. “I don’t know if I'm the better option.”
She’s letting that sink in, really thinking about it, and every second ticking by is torture. “You are. You’ve already been more of a father to her than she’s probably ever had.”
“How? Bringing her to my fake girlfriend’s house.” She flinches, but quickly recovers.
“By protecting her. Helping her when she asked for help. That’s all she needs.”
Bree walks in with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Is one of you going to take me to school?”
I grab my keys from the kitchen counter and nod my head curtly in Blair’s direction. The only way I know how to end the conversation I didn’t want to have in the first place.
She walks over to Bree, smoothing her hair with her hand. “Give ’em hell, kid. You have my number and your cell.”
“She has a cellphone?” I walk to join the girls.
Bree lifts her shoulder in a signature