threw back at her. “And is that all I am to you? Your sister’s friend?” I didn’t want to sound like my heart was breaking, but it was. And I had never been one to hide things.
She threw her head back and laughed. A shrill sound that wasn’t remotely sincere. “Now Web, don’t go thinking sex means anything. It never does. And definitely not in LA.” She never called me by my nickname. I was always Kyle to her. That was the final nail in our miserable coffin.
She walked over to where I stood in the middle of her bedroom, went up on her tiptoes, and kissed my cheek. Lips that had been melded to mine. Lips that I had worshipped for so long.
She patted my arm like I was a cute dog or something. “If you need help finding a hotel, text me. Otherwise, let’s try to meet up before you head back to Southport.”
I didn’t say anything, and she turned and left without waiting to see if I would.
I heard the door click shut, and then I was alone.
I picked up my duffel bag and unzipped it, pulling out the small stuffed dog I had brought with me. I held it in my hand for a few minutes, wondering if I should leave it. I had brought it for her because it looked like her dog Bongo that died during her senior year of high school. She had loved that dog, and I remember her crying for months over him. I had found a company online that would make stuffed toy replicas of your pets. And I sent in a picture of Bongo I had taken at the Galloway house when I was fifteen.
I thought she’d love it. I thought she’d look at it and realize how much she meant to me. How much I knew her.
So much for that.
I tossed the dog onto the bed, not caring if she kept it or not.
It didn’t matter anyway.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and left Whitney’s apartment, heading straight for the airport.
Los Angeles was definitely not the place for me.
And Whitney Galloway wasn’t the woman I thought she was.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Kyle
“Come on, Katie Bug, lie still for Daddy.”
Trying to wrangle a wriggly one and a half-year-old toddler into a pair of pants was more difficult than trying to catch a greased pig. Katie giggled and kicked at me with her little feet. Most days, getting my daughter dressed was akin to engaging in an Olympic sport. I had to use all of my hand-eye coordination and quick reflexes to get the job done.
And I wouldn’t change a second of it.
“No, Dada.” She pouted with her full, rosebud lips, and I instantly melted. Less than two years old, and the little diva already had me wrapped around her cute little finger.
“Yes, Katie. It’s time to get dressed. You have to go play with Nommy. She’ll be sad if you’re late.” I lifted her into a sitting position and pulled a yellow and green striped T-shirt over her head.
Katie pointed at the dog that was pictured on the front. “Woof!” she announced with pride. Katie had been saying simple words for months now and was consistently trying to sound out new ones. It wasn’t me being biased as a proud dad, but my girl did everything fast. She was crawling at four months, pulling herself up on the furniture at eight months, and was full-on walking at a year. Dr. Samuels, her pediatrician, was surprised at how quickly she reached all of her milestones.
“This one will be ready to run the country at ten. So, watch out,” the grizzled doctor had said, laughing as he watched Katie toddling around the examination room for her checkup.
Given how rocky her early life had been, I was relieved that it hadn’t seemed to affect Katie much at all. She was too young to know what missing her mother should feel like. Sure, the questions would come later—I only hoped I’d know how to answer them.
When she was finally dressed, I lifted her off the changing table, and she ran to her bed and pulled Fuzzles, her stuffed monkey, from his place on her pillow. “Fuss-ell!” She squished the ragged toy to her chest. She kissed it on its head and tucked it under her arm as she always did before we left the house. Katie never went anywhere without Fuzzles. It broke my heart a little every time she hugged and kissed it,