Not the Only One (Book 1 in the Four of Us Trilogy)

Seventeen

Miles

I've been pacing around the house for an hour, waiting for Rachel to get here. She'd never been to my house; in fact, I don't remember the last time anyone besides Joseph had come over.

Joseph had texted me earlier, asking me why I hadn't been sitting with them at lunch. I didn't want to delve into my actual feelings with him, so I just gave some macho answer to shut him up.

Anxiety building in my stomach, I looked around. I wasn't nervous because I was ashamed of my house or anything...it was the opposite.

My house was ostentatious (SAT vocab word). It's red brick, three stories, seven bedrooms and four bathrooms—I am an only child and always have been, so there is no reason for a house this big...except to show off. We have a huge spiral staircase, an in-ground pool with a waterfall, a tennis court, and a four-car garage. It was embarrassing to have people over because people ogled over it so much.

My dad is the CEO of a company he built from the ground up, Jefferson Properties. He owns like 30 ridiculously huge high-rise condominiums in Panama City Beach and Destin. His company is the biggest in the Florida panhandle, and in the top five in the entire state. For all the things that my dad is or isn't, he is an excellent businessman—in fact, if he were as good of a father as he is an entrepreneur, my life would've been different. Because of his job, though, he gets stressed so easily, and believe me, I get it. But he never learned to deal with stress and anger, so I always ended up being the one he'd take it out on. Before my mom died, he'd never hit me, just yell and berate me a lot. But when she died...I don't know, it was like a switch flipped inside him and he lost his humanity, not to mention whatever love he held for me.

The doorbell interrupted my thoughts. I inhaled and made my way to the door, swinging it open wide.

Rachel was on the doorstep, her eyes starry with admiration. "Why didn't you tell me I was coming to Buckingham Palace? I would've dressed a little better!" she joked, gesturing at her outfit—cut off jean shorts and a plain white tank top that hugged every curve.

In one motion, I stepped toward her, wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her flush against me. "You're perfect," I murmured into her ear.

She put put a hand on my chest, and I felt goosebumps break out all over my body. I looked down at her, our faces inches apart.

Buzz buzz.

My fucking phone. We broke apart, and I gave her a silent apology, looking at it. It was my dad. I opened the door wider behind me and waved her inside. Closing the door behind me, I pulled out my phone.

I won't be home tonight. Staying in Tampa—conference continuing tomorrow. Don't forget to lock up and set the alarm.

My heart pounded in my chest. My dad wouldn't be home, which meant Rachel and I have the house to ourselves for the rest of the day and night.

Okay, dad. I won't forget. Be safe.

K.

No "bye," no "have a good day," definitely no "love you, son."

"What was that about?" Rachel asked.

I tossed my phone onto the couch. "Just my dad...he won't be home tonight," I said nonchalantly, offering her a seat on our leather sectional.

She sat down and crossed one leg underneath her butt. "Really," she said, raising one eyebrow.

"Yeah, he has to stay in Tampa for some conference," I said, shrugging.