“Oh my gods. What do you mean who or what?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t discriminate. You put it where you want. Ryan. A fairy. A tree.”
“Oh for the love of—”
“Sam!”
“What!”
“You love him.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
“And he loves you.”
“Maybe. Not enough, apparently.”
“Fuck him.”
“That was the whole idea and why did I just say that to you!”
“I know about sex, Sam,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Your mother and I—”
“If you love me, you will not finish that sentence.”
He closed his mouth.
“I love you too,” I said, patting his hand.
“I just don’t like it when you’re sad,” he said. “And you’ve been sad for a while now.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess. But isn’t that all part of growing up? Your first isn’t always going to be your last.”
“It was for me,” he said, “and I want it to be for you.”
That stung and made me feel warm all at the same time. I was so happy my parents found each other like they did. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
He reached up and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me until our foreheads touched. “There’s someone out there for you,” he said. “Someone who will love your hair and your words and your eyes and the way you still scrunch up your nose when you’re thinking hard on something. He will love you for all of the things that you are and all of the things you aren’t. He’ll love you beyond all reason and will be convinced that you hung the sun and moon. He will see the stars and wish for only you. Someone will love every single part of who you are, and my gods, I can’t wait for the day to meet him to tell him thank you.”
“Yeah?” I asked hoarsely.
He squeezed my neck. “Yeah.”
And I believed him because he was my father and he would never lie to me about such things.
He pulled away, smiled at me. And then the smile slid away and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he snarled.
“Eep,” I said, sure my father had lost his mind.
But he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was over my shoulder, and before I could turn around, he was reaching past me and grabbing hold of someone. I felt them collide with my back and I almost fell off my stool at the bar. Whoever my father had a hold of was dragged around me as my father stood.
It was Ryan.
Because of course it was.
“I am so not up for this right now,” I groaned. The barkeep looked like he was about to intervene, but I just waved him away. “It’s cool. Just my dad and my… Ryan.” Wait. “Not that he’s my Ryan or anything. He’s his own Ryan. Nobody else’s. Except for maybe
the Prince. Yes. That is the Prince’s Ryan and my dad and everything is cool.”