“Is this…?”
My voice trails off, but the question is apparent.
“Welcome to the home of my father. Most people just call him Vince, though. Be prepared for several other full wall-murals. He likes his face,” Bo says dryly, doing all she can to restrain the twitching lips on her face.
“Vince… He doesn’t have a kid,” my mother states, but I see pictures of Bo with Vince on almost every surface in the living room. No doubt the man is a father. And a proud one. It’s like a timeline from baby to adult… Bo’s life in color.
“For my safety and the chance to live a somewhat normal life, I was kept a secret. I even took my mother’s maiden name, and my father helped raise me privately. No media is allowed out here unless invited. Or any of his homes, for that matter. After a major lawsuit my father won against a few stalking paparazzi who crossed one of his private fences to try and get a few shots, no one has messed with him. The few pics people scored of me were passed off as him hanging with a friend’s kid. No one was ever the wiser, because… Well, my father is so public, so keeping a kid a secret should have been impossible, so no one ever truly suspected anything.”
My mother starts fanning herself, and she looks over at me with accusatory eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hisses.
Fucking eh. What else don’t I know?
I’m almost scared to find out.
“We can talk about all this in the morning,” Helen says around a yawn.
Suddenly her attachment to Bo now makes sense. I feel as though I’ve been getting played like a worn out piano.
“I agree. I’m exhausted. There should be some clothes being delivered soon. Each guest room should have something in it for everyone to wear for the night,” Bo inserts, no longer seeming like the shy, timid thing I saw earlier today.
This is a different Bo. A take charge version of her that makes it seem like she’s used to control. From wild and shameless, to shy and timid, and now assertive and powerful. I’m getting whiplash.
I’m wide awake, but her tired eyes meet mine as she tilts her head. I’ve never really wanted to just hold Bora, but tonight… After everything that’s happened and now this… All I want to do is wrap my arms around her and thank her for being so fucking amazing.
Never thought I’d say that about her.
She walks to me, and my arms go around her, pulling her to me as my lips brush her forehead. Thank fuck I fell asleep in some shorts. It’d suck to be standing here in my boxers.
Bo laces her fingers with mine, and that shy, timid girl is suddenly back in place. I never thought she’d have layers, but she does, and I feel like an ass for never once noticing before now.
“You coming?” she asks in a shaky, somewhat uncertain breath.
I just nod, still trying to piece together all the crazy puzzle pieces of the night.
Silently, we make our way up an elegantly spiraled staircase, and my fingers stay clasped with hers all the way to the room. As soon as we’re inside, I marvel at how insanely different it is than her apartment.
Unlike the vibrant, wild colors of her apartment, the colors are muted in here—understated sexy, I guess. Silvers and pale blues mingle on the walls in wide strips, and everything else is crisp white. The bed has a freaking princess canopy—white—draping from the bed posts and wrapping around the bed, but she pulls the veil back and ties it so that it isn’t a hindrance.
Two large doors are open and letting the wind come in from the balcony, while the tall ceiling hosts a ridiculously large, palm-leaf-inspired ceiling fan that is rotating rapidly, spinning a cool breeze down to us.
“The air probably wasn’t on up here. This place has several units, but the upstairs is shut off when we’re not here,” she babbles, shifting awkwardly as I continue to take in all our new surroundings.
“Looks like I’m about to get to know you a little better,” I murmur, letting my gaze drift over a white, velvety looking chaise lounge. Nothing screams Bora… But everything seems… Inviting? Relaxing?
Again, nothing like Bora.
“Will you say something?” she asks weakly, and a small grin lifts at the corners of my mouth.
“For once in my life, Bo, I have nothing to say. This night has been—”
“Crazy? Insane? Surreal? Yeah, I’m really tired. Can we just go to sleep and start fresh tomorrow?” she interjects.
I would also add confusing to that list.
“Sounds pretty perfect,” I tell her, feeling that missing exhaustion slowly sinking into me as a yawn passes my lips.