All I See Is You

11. Til You Can’t

Chapter eleven

Til You Can’t

Quinn

I awoke to a loud crash, followed by a muffled curse.

What the hell?

Bolting upright, I blinked the sleep from my eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the low light of the room. Where was I? Oh, right . Memories of the night before swirled to life in my head like tendrils of smoke. I glanced at the empty spot in bed beside me.

Oh my God. Hux . Was he okay?

I pulled the topsheet from the bed, wrapping it around me, and hurried toward the source of the crash—the bathroom.

It was dark in there as Hux’s familiar growl echoed off the tiles. Flicking the light on, I found him in the middle of the bathroom, looking lost and pissed as all hell. His lips were drawn down into a scowl, his brows furrowed beneath his sunglasses. The curtain to the shower had somehow been knocked down. Must’ve been the crashing sound then .

“Hey, you okay?” I asked tentatively, so as not to startle him.

He stilled for a moment, every muscle in his body going rigid, before he loosed a breath and turned to me. “I was tryin’ to leave and not wake you, but apparently that didn’t fuckin’ happen.”

My heart sank. Why had he wanted to leave without me knowing? Did he not want to see me? The answer was like a shout in my head as doubt settled like stones in my stomach. “Oh,” I said, defeat creeping into my tone.

“Wait—” Hux took a hesitant step toward me. Then another. And another. I reached out and pressed a hand to his chest so he didn’t bump into me. “I didn’t leave because I was tryin’ to sneak out. Well, not cuz I didn’t wanna see you or anythin’ like that. I just didn’t wanna wake you up. I gotta go feed and get to work for the day, and, well, it seems unfair wakin’ you up at 5:30 on a Sunday mornin’.”

And just like that, he pulled me against him, caging his arms around me. Relief blossomed in my chest. How was it possible to feel so at ease in someone’s arms? How was it possible he could take away my worries in a heartbeat, like the tide erasing footprints in the sand? “I’m sorry,” I replied, “I know I’m being insecure, I just—”

He stopped my sentence right in its tracks with a gentle, yet insistent kiss to my lips. Butterflies seemed to flutter behind my ribcage.

“I know,” he murmured against my mouth. “You don’t gotta explain or apologize.”

Drawing back to look up at him, I grabbed his hand. “Here, I’ll walk you out. You won’t get very far in here. We’re in the bathroom.”

He huffed but let me lead him out into the room. After changing quickly, I grabbed his hand once more, partly to help him navigate, but mostly because I enjoyed the feel of his calloused hand in mine. And maybe, possibly, definitely, because I was terrified that after he left things would be different. So for now, for these next few minutes, I’d savor his touch and presence.

“So,” I asked, glancing over at him as we walked down the quiet hallway. “What all do you do here for work?”

I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I was genuinely curious because I didn’t know the first thing about cowboys or ranch work or what all that entailed. And also because, well, I couldn’t imagine having to do it without my vision.

“I feed, water, and work all the horses mostly, since none of these dipshit cowboys can train worth a shit. I can buck hay easily enough, and as long as one of the guys gives me directions, I can hold my own with most manual labor.”

“You do all that without…” My words trailed off, uncertainty welling up inside of me. I didn’t want to sound callous or rude.

“Without seeing?” he finished. “You can say it. It ain’t gonna offend me.”

“I just don’t want to be insensitive,” I said, pulling him to a stop for a moment as we came to the front door. Opening it, I led him onto the front porch.

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. I can’t see for shit. I’m blind. It’s a part of me now, as much as I hate it. There ain’t nothin’ offensive about you sayin’ it out loud.”

He said it with such nonchalance that it both eased my fears a bit and made my heart hurt. But it was clear from his tone, from the way he talked about his situation, that he hated people making a big deal about it.

“I’m sorry.” I gave his hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.

He pulled me into his arms and the butterflies in my ribcage started fluttering about once more. “Can we do this again?” he asked.

“The um—well, what part?” I sounded like an idiot, but the way his hooded, sunglasses stare bore into me made me nervous as all hell.

“All of it. Whatever you want. I could show you around—I mean, well, you could take me around and I’ll tell you about what it means to me. I could take you to dinner too, if you wanted.”

I smiled, warmth igniting in my chest. “I would like that very much.”

He dipped his mouth toward mine and I kissed him, slow and sensual, enjoying the high I felt in his arms.

“How ‘bout I pick you up right here around six-ish?” he asked as he pulled away enough to utter the words.

“Sounds good. Oh God, what should I wear?” The question was more for me than him, but he chuckled and answered anyway.

A wry grin came to his lips. “It don’t matter to me, it all looks the same anyways. Wear what makes you comfortable.”

I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped me. It was going to take me a minute to get used to how casually he talked about his blindness. But he was right. It was a part of him. “You would think that would make it easier, but it doesn’t.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Don’t overthink it, darlin’.”

I blew out a nervous laugh. “Ha! You might not have noticed yet, but overthinking is basically my entire personality.”

He laughed, a low, deep, genuine sound that made my stomach do somersaults of excitement. “Well, I’ve always been partial to sundresses.” His hand holding me against him slid down the small of my back and over the swell of my ass. Leaning in, he rumbled, “The shorter the better.”

My head fell back, a husky laugh floating out of me as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. “I think I can make that happen.”

“Good.” His mouth descended on mine, and I didn’t even mind that it was only 5:30 in the morning and it already felt so hot it was like I’d stepped into a bowl of soup. I got lost in Hux—in his touch, his scent, his taste. In that moment, it was just him and I. Nothing mattered, nothing existed but us.

“Ahem.”

I startled at the sound of the masculine voice off to my right. Lurching back a step, but still wrapped in Hux’s embrace, I glanced down the steps of the front porch to find my dad watching us. He’d thankfully traded in the obnoxious cowboy getup for something more familiar—one of his sleeveless t-shirts and a pair of workout shorts. He’d always been a jogger and an early riser. It was good to see that, at least, some things didn’t change about him.

“Quinn, you’re up early.” His hard gaze landed on me, and I knew we’d be having a conversation later. But something darkened in his eyes as he glanced at Hux. “Huxson…shouldn’t you be working?”

I scowled, my eyes narrowing to slits at his harsh tone.

Hux released me and nodded in my dad’s direction. “I was just on my way to feed, sir.”

“Well, I suggest you see to it.” There was a layer of coldness to his words that he rarely ever used.

Anger bristled in my chest at my dad’s callous tone. I mean, I’m sure it was probably a shock to see his daughter making out with one of his employees, but really, did he have to be such a dick about it?

Hux made his way slowly down the steps, each footfall measured and unhurried—it still amazed me how he could manage so easily without a walking cane. Turning back once he got to the bottom of the porch steps, he called out, “See you tonight, Miss Quinn.”

I smiled. The way he said my name…it made my knees weak. “Have a good day!”

I waited until Hux was out of earshot before I glared at my dad. “Really, Dad? ‘I suggest you see to it? Don’t you think that was a bit, I don’t know, tone deaf?”

He scoffed, pushing his sweaty, sandy locks back off his head. “What? It’s just a figure of speech.”

“Why were you so rude to him?” I sighed.

“I wasn’t. I could’ve written him up for being late.” Again with the harsh, cold words. Again, I didn’t understand.

“Really?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s not even 6 AM on a Sunday, who cares if he’s a couple minutes late?”

My dad wiped at his brow with the back of his arm. “What kind of precedent does that set for the other hands? It isn’t fair for me to just give out handouts because of his…”

“His disability? It’s called accommodations, Dad. Which he has every right to. He manages to do all of this without even seeing, cut the guy some damn slack! Besides, since when are you a stickler for the rules? Aren’t you the one who used to always say that the rules are more like strong suggestions? That they’re meant to be bent…maybe even broken?”

He sighed, and for a moment I thought I’d gotten through to him, but when he leveled me with a fierce, determined stare, I realized there was no winning this fight. I was familiar with a losing battle when I saw one. “I don’t want you seeing him, Quinn.”

“Why?” I scoffed, rocking back at his words. Dad always had been particular about anyone I dated. No one was ever good enough for his little girl. I know he hadn’t liked Devin, so I’d kept their interactions to a minimum.

“He’s too old for you,” Dad said with a shrug, walking up the porch steps slowly. To anyone else, it just looked like he was tired, but I knew he took the stairs more carefully ever since he tore his ACL the year after Mom passed when he went through one of his midlife crises and crashed his snowmobile. This whole ranch business was the, what, third or fourth crisis now? I’d lost track at this point honestly.

I barked out a bitter laugh. “That’s really hypocritical, don’t you think, Dad?”

A flash of guilt flickered on his face before hardening to resolve once more. Dad was one of the stubbornest people I knew. I swear, he could argue with a wall and win. “It’s different for Georgette and I.”

“Yeah, it’s arguably worse.” I pegged him with a hard stare, my head cocking to the side. “Hux and I have about a ten year age gap between us…you and Georgette though, it’s what? Like, twenty, twenty-one years?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. I closed my eyes and sighed. “Look, Dad, I don’t want to fight. I like him, why is that so bad?”

It was too early for this, and I hated that he seemed intent on trying to tear down the high of happiness I’d been riding since last night.

He chewed on his lip for a long moment. “He’s not good enough.”

I couldn’t stop my eye roll or the huff of disbelief that managed to come out of me. “Really? Let me guess, it’s because of—”

“It isn’t about that at all, Quinn. He’s got a bad attitude. He’s always picking fights with Georgette—”

“Have you heard how she talks about him, Dad? If she’s as awful to him as she was when she was talking to us, I don’t really blame him.” I bit the inside of my cheek and clenched my fists at my sides. I understood that he was marrying her, but it pissed me off he could defend her so easily after only being with her for not even two full months. He would fight harder for her than his own damn kid?

My dad let out a frustrated growl, his nostrils flaring at the unexpected challenge. I never stood up to him. I gave in easily, I didn’t push the envelope. I backed down when the water got hot, or things got tough. I didn’t like to cause problems. But maybe it was the fact that I was fed up with keeping my mouth shut, the fact I felt fiercely protective of Hux despite just meeting him, or the fact that I was tired of my dad telling me what I could and couldn’t do, but I wasn’t going to back down or cower.

“He’s got no drive,” my dad snapped, anger finally boiling over and shining brightly in his blue-green gaze—nearly identical to mine. “He’s the oldest hand here and he seems content to do this for the rest of his life. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Quinn, but ranch hands don’t make much, and you’ve been given a life of luxury. You really think he’s going to be able to take care of you the way you’re used to being taken care of?”

I shook my head, tears brewing like storms in my eyes. Angry tears that my dad always saw as weakness. Sucking in a deep breath of air and exhaling slowly, I pegged him with a harsh, furious glare. “First off, I don’t need anyone to take care of me. It’s why I have a job. I don’t need him or you to fund my lifestyle. Secondly, Hux is a two-time World Champion bull rider. That takes quite a bit of drive, if you ask me.” I didn’t know the first thing about bull riding, aside from the little clips I’d seen on TV or online, but from what I did know, it was dangerous and hard and took guts.

Dad shook his head, letting out a weak laugh. “Yeah, and look where that landed him.”

My breath left me in a whoosh, his cold, callous, hateful words hitting me like a ton of bricks. It was my turn to shake my head. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Each word was slow, measured, and quaked with so much emotion I couldn’t quite figure out which it was more of—fury, disbelief, hurt, sadness. “How could you say something so—” A tear fell down my cheek. “So fucking horrible?” I shook my head, my vision blurring as I glared at him.

If only Mom were here. I could envision it now. Mom would glare at him, hiss out his name, and give him a ration of shit until she’d talked some sense into him. It didn’t matter if there was an audience or not, she’d put him in his place if he was out of line. God, I wished she was here still.

My dad sputtered for a reply, but I cut him off. “Mom would be so disappointed in you,” I choked out, stomping down the steps.

“Qu-Queenie. Quinn, please.” His words wobbled and wavered. I’d cut deep. Good . Maybe he’d start to get his head out of his ass. My dad had always been a bit grandiose, materialistic, enamored by bright, new, shiny things. But he had a good heart—I knew he did. Right now, he wasn’t acting like it, and I had no doubt I knew at least part of the reason why. It was a five foot something bleached blonde bimbo whose mind was smaller than her goddamn daisy dukes.

And I’m supposed to plan their wedding.

One crisis at a time though, right? I needed to get away. Blow off some steam. Anything as long as it was far, far away from my dad. As if summoned by my thoughts, Whit appeared, walking up the driveway from the direction of the hands’ bunkhouse as I walked toward it.

“Hey, girl! Oh—” Her bright smile faltered. “What’s going on?”

I noted her rumpled clothes from the night before, her bare feet and cowboy boots bundled in one hand with her loose bun piled atop her head. She was a whole hot mess of a vibe, and somehow she still managed to rock the hell out of it.

Confidence, she’d probably say. I swear, if I could bottle it up and drink it by the gallons I would. I could use a bit of her confidence.

“Wanna grab coffee?” I asked.

She offered me a soft, reassuring smile. “Let’s go.”

Y ou’d think finding a place to grab coffee would be easy enough, but not at seven in the morning on a Sunday. We’d finally found a place—a little hole in the wall called Sunshine’s that was only open for breakfast and lunch. It had a cheery vibe, with black and white checkered tables and a sunshine and bee painted mural on both of the main walls. Sunflower arrangements sat on each of the tables while soft country ballads played in the background.

It was an adorable aesthetic, but all it seemed to do was mock me and my terrible mood as I sat across from Whitt.

“I can’t believe your dad was being such a dick,” Whit said, scooping a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth. I bit back a gag and took a sip of my iced coffee. I understood Whit’s healthy food journey, and I was all in support, but oatmeal was just one of those things I’d never be on board with. I’d rather die than eat it. Seriously.

I’d told her about how Dad had caught Hux and I on the front porch and the argument that ensued after.

Sighing, I met her gaze. “I know. It makes me furious. Like, I know that my dad isn’t perfect. He says stupid shit sometimes, but he isn’t malicious. What he said…” I bit my lip, shaking my head. “It reminded me of yesterday when Georgette was talking down about Hux. And that’s not him.”

Whit offered me a sympathetic look. “You sure you want him marrying her?”

“It’s not about what I want,” I replied with a shrug. “What I think of Georgette doesn’t matter in the end. It’s his life. He deserves to be happy, and if she does that, well, that’s all I can ask for my dad. I don’t have to like her.”

“You’re a hell of a lot more mature about it than I’d be. She’s…” Whit took another bite of her oatmeal. “About as awful as this oatmeal.” Scrunching her nose up, she finally pushed the bowl away from her.

I laughed. “I don’t know how you even ate that much of it.”

She grimaced and grabbed her coffee, downing a few large gulps. “Sheer force of will, I guess.” She steepled her cup between her fingers and pegged me with a knowing smirk. “So, onto more interesting things… Hux is famous?”

I nodded. “Yeah, at least that’s what the bartender said. I guess he was a pretty big bull rider.”

“That’s so cool! I wonder why he doesn’t do it anymore.”

I frowned, my head cocking to the side. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious. He can’t see, Whit.”

She gave me a no-shit kind of look. “Obvi! But like how did he go blind?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, when I asked, he shut down. He was really closed off about it and I didn’t want to press.” It made me sad though. Sad that he couldn’t talk about it. That he struggled with trying to find a place in this world after his accident.

“Have you looked him up at all online?”

I huffed a laugh. “No, I haven’t really had time.”

Whit’s lips pulled up into a wolfish smirk, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief as she pulled out her phone. “Well, now we do.”

I swear, if Whit wasn’t a phenomenal hairdresser, she’d make an amazing detective…or a stalker. In less than a minute, she’d managed to find all of his social media accounts—all of which hadn’t been updated in about three years—as well as some of his most noteworthy rides, and an entire google search worth of articles about his accident. She even managed to find the video of said accident. Placing the phone sideways on the table, she pressed the play button.

It was him riding a bull. My heart thumped ridiculously fast as I watched him. I didn’t know the first thing about what he was doing, but it looked amazing. He looked amazing. But then all of a sudden the bull moved and bucked in a way that threw Hux with so much force that he launched forward and smacked into the bull’s horns. I think he lost consciousness at that point, because he didn’t move. Didn’t try to disentangle his hand. The bull ran and bucked and tried to get him off, and Hux just hung there, looking like he was a ragdoll. Looking like he was dead.

My heart faltered and my stomach clenched into tight knots as I clapped a hand over my mouth—to hide my gasp or to stop the nausea rolling through me in waves, I wasn’t quite sure. The clip ended and Whit looked up from her phone to me.

“Are you crying?” she asked, though the words were merely curious and not judgmental.

I frowned, pressing a hand to my cheek. Wetness clung to my fingertips. “I guess so,” I replied with a sad huff.

“That was crazy,” Whit said. “I never realized bull riding was so brutal.”

I nodded, still trying to fight the wave of unease pounding through me. I don’t even know why I was so upset and emotional over it. It’s not like I’d been there. Not like I’d dated him at that point or even known he’d existed. But maybe it was seeing just how much that moment changed him. From videos and reels and photos on social media he’d seemed outgoing, lively, a bit reckless. But the Hux I knew was not like that at all. The Hux I knew was closed off, harsh, brutally honest.

“More days than not, I think of how much I hate what’s become of my life…”

I understood why he didn’t want to talk about it now. I think if I’d gone through something like that, I’d want to forget about it too.

“I can’t believe that happened to him.” I sighed, grabbing Whit’s phone and clicking on her Instagram to scroll back through his page. My heart cracked and shattered a bit more at each photo or video I saw of him. He smiled so easily, he looked so happy and carefree.

I wondered if he’d still be like that now had he never gotten hurt.

But then I’d probably never have met him. And the Hux I’d met was just as intriguing, just as amazing—probably even more so—than the version of him before the accident. And at the risk of sounding callous, I was glad to have met this version of him. Because he was broken and raw and beautiful. He was honest and attentive and kind, and he made my heart race in a way I’d never known before. Didn’t even know was possible.

“You like him, don’t you?” Whit asked, her tone and gaze turning serious—oddly unlike her. “Like, really like him.”

“I just met him.” I placed her phone back on the table and reached for my iced coffee, though I made no attempt to drink it. My stomach was still in knots.

“And you didn’t answer my question.” She pegged me with a knowing look.

But I didn’t want to talk about the emotions that fluttered to life in my chest at the thought of Hux right at the moment. Because I did like him. Probably a little—okay, way too much, considering I just met him. And if I already felt this much after one night, what was going to happen after our date?

One thing at a time.

So, instead of answering Whit’s question, I asked one of my own. “What about you and Travis? You’ve been awfully quiet about your night.”

She laughed loudly and rolled her eyes. “I know you’re just deflecting the question, but I’ll let it slide. For now .” And then she launched into a play by play of what all had happened last night at the bar. She hadn't slept with him, but made sure to let me know she would ten out of ten hook up with him tonight if he'd quit being such a gentleman. In fact, she planned on it.

“I’m telling you, girl, there’s something in the water here, or the air. These Texas boys are something else.”

I couldn’t argue with her there.

M y dad and Georgette were nowhere to be found when Whit and I got back, thankfully, so the two of us had spent some time tanning by the pool before heading up to the rooms to figure out outfits for the night. As it turned out, Whit had managed to set up a solo date for her and Travis as well—even if Whit’s stance on seeing him was much more casual than when I thought of the potential for my budding relationship with Hux.

Thankfully, I’d packed heavy for this month-long visit and brought a bit of everything. Had I depended on Whit’s Tiktok hack, I’d be in serious trouble. As it stood, I had almost too many options to choose from.

A knock came on my door sometime in the mid-afternoon. I wasn’t surprised to find my dad there. I figured he’d come around sooner or later. “Hey, Queenie. Can we talk?”

I glanced back at Whit and told her we’d be right back before turning to my dad. “Okay, that’s fine.”

Dad didn’t launch into a speech right away, which wasn’t entirely like him. He hated quiet almost as much as he hated being unproductive. So he talked and talked and talked normally. But right now he was quiet, so quiet it was painful. So quiet you could hear a damn pin drop.

We walked down the hall toward the entryway to the first floor, veering off in the direction of the back patio and the pool beyond. Each silent moment that passed made my anxiety ramp up higher and higher. What was he going to say? Would he still be angry with me? Would he act like nothing had even happened? Or would he try to lecture me and make me feel like I’d been the one who was in the wrong all along and that I owed him an apology?

“I’m sorry,” he finally said as we came to the edge of the pool. He kicked off his sandals and took a seat on the side, putting his feet into the tepid water.

My mouth flopped open and closed like a damn fish gasping for air. I wasn’t expecting an apology. Especially not one right off the bat. I hadn’t even had a moment to slip off my sandals and sit down beside him before he continued on.

“I know what I said upset you, and I should have handled myself better. I truly was just trying to look out for you, Queenie.” He blew out a breath, watching his feet as he kicked them slowly in the clear water. “It’s hard sometimes….” Glancing over at me, he offered me a soft smile. “I still look at you and see my little girl. It’s hard to remember you’re an adult now, and can take care of yourself and make your own decisions.”

I didn’t know what to say. What to do. Surprise and disbelief swirled in my chest. My dad didn’t apologize almost ever. And I don’t think I could remember the last time he’d sounded so honest and genuine.

“Thank you,” I replied, my words soft. I couldn’t look at him. I think if I did I just might cry.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Hux as well. I was out of line.”

“It’s okay,” I managed to croak out.

He sighed, and when I glanced at him, there was a heaviness to his gaze, his shoulders, his entire being that made him seem old. Older than I’d ever seen him. He’d always been incredibly active and fit when I was growing up, and it hadn’t changed once Mom passed. In fact, he was probably more active now. To his credit, he didn’t look like he was fifty-one. With his mussed up sandy blonde haircut, his youthful face, and his well toned physique, he could easily pass for his early to mid-forties.

But right now, with the sadness shining so brightly from every inch of him, he looked weathered. Broken. Soul tired. The tired that didn’t go away with rest.

“It’s not,” he replied with a huff. “But I promise I won’t say anything like that ever again.”

I nodded and leaned into him. “Thank you.”

He wrapped an arm around me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I shouldn’t have ambushed you last night. About the ranch. I just—I wanted to surprise you. I miss you and I want to be around more, but I just…” He blew out a breath, and when I pulled back enough to glance up at him, tears hung like star drops in his eyes. “I can’t be in California. Everywhere I go, every place reminds me of her. I was hoping that I could have a new start here. I can’t, nor do I want to erase your mom, but I can’t move on when everything reminds me of her. I need somewhere different. Somewhere fresh. This—I think this could be really good. Great, even. I just… I wanted to share it with you.”

My heart felt like it was nothing more than a piece of paper being shredded in half. It was almost like I could hear the actual sound of it tearing. I understood Dad wanting to move on. I understood him wanting to start fresh in a new place, on a new adventure. I even understood the want to involve me. I was all he had. Dad’s parents had been gone for a while now, and Meema and Grandpa had passed on shortly after Mom did. It was just him and I. So I got why he wanted me on this new journey.

But the thought of leaving California permanently... Of leaving Mom, even if she wasn’t actually there, well, frankly it was kind of scary—okay, a lot scary. California was all I’d ever known. It was where Mom was buried.

Could I just give that up and start a life here?

“I know, Dad,” I finally replied, blowing out a breath.

A few tense, silent moments passed between us until I finally looked at him and asked, “Do you love her?”

He nodded, a soft smile coming to his lips. “I do. She makes me feel alive again.”

My heart panged in my chest, conflict welling to life there. A part of me—the little girl who couldn’t imagine a life without her mom and dad together—hated that any woman, especially Georgette, made him feel anything at all. But the logical part of me understood that he deserved to be happy. Who was I to deny him that happiness?

I squeezed his hand again. “Then I hope you have to most fantastic wedding and life together.”

He kissed my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.” Blowing out a breath, I said, “Speaking of wedding, we should probably sit down and get started on figuring out all the details sooner rather than later.”

“How about tonight?” Dad asked, brow quirking up. “We could do dinner here, or if you wanted we could go out. Whatever you prefer.”

A wave of guilt crashed into me. “Actually, um, I’m supposed to go to dinner with Hux.”

“He can come too. It’ll be a good opportunity to get to know him more.” Dad’s tone took on his usual enthusiasm.

If only I shared that excitement. It was clear how Georgette felt about Hux, and I got the impression that the feeling was mutual on his end. Putting them together would likely end up being a dumpster fire.

“Um, let me see what Hux thinks after he gets here. I don’t want to just assume—”

Dad cut me off. “It’s okay. I know it’s last minute, so if it doesn’t work out that’s okay! We got plenty of time.”

I huffed. “We really don’t, Dad.”

He waved me off. “One more day won’t hurt.”

I kicked my feet in the water, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid against my skin. Right now, the heat wasn’t so bad. “Where even is Georgette?”

He checked his watch. “She’s probably just finished up kickboxing right now and has a hot yoga class for an hour after. She’ll be back in another hour or two.”

“How long does she work out for?” I scoffed. The idea of doing it for an hour seemed brutal, but multiple hours? God, no wonder she had the body of a goddess.

“Her Sunday workouts usually last three hours. Sometimes four.”

I didn’t even know how to comprehend, let alone respond, so I just nodded. Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. 3:30. I didn’t need two and a half hours to get ready for my date, and it’d been a long time since Dad and I had a chance to catch up just us two. So, with a sigh, I laid my head on his shoulder and asked, “How have things been?”