Last Good Thing (The Fallout Series Book 1)

by Heather Young-Nichols

  “I haven’t been back long.” I brushed the flour residue from my shirt. “How are things?”

  “Good. Things are busy here as always.” Because East Branch loves Hammond Bakery. “What about you?”

  “Finishing college next year. Then it’s the scary real world,” I joked. He laughed with me. “But things are… OK.” I decided not to mention my dad to him unless he asked. Justin wouldn’t have known my father so telling him would’ve just been to get sympathy and I didn’t want.

  “That’s awesome. You know, if you’re here for the summer, you should give me your number so we can get together.”

  “That’s not a good idea. I’m seeing someone.”

  “Of course you are.” He smiled over at me. “What can I get you?”

  I told him the doughnuts Dylan wanted first because he was bouncing on his toes, anxious, and kept reminding me which ones he wanted. Then finished out the twelve with random selections, paid, and we started the walk back.

  This time he asked me a million questions about what things were in the neighborhood. I had the feeling he knew, but he still asked. Mostly I stuck to stories about Zac and me when we were kids. The appropriate stories anyway. Didn’t want to tarnish his view of his father or give him any ideas.

  Dylan’s face scrunched together in confusion. “You knew my dad when you were little?” he asked.

  “Yup. He was my best friend.”

  “Is he still your best friend?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. Was he? I thought no, Rhian was my best friend, but I couldn’t get into that with a four-year-old. Honestly, how could I explain any of it?

  Dylan held the screen door open for me to get by Zac and Porter, now working on the front door, with the big box of doughnuts. As soon as I was through it, he asked his dad if he could have one right away. Zac told him he had to sit at the table, which sent Dylan racing for a chair in the dining room. I giggled at the sight and how normal it felt to have Zac in my house and have a kid running around. It weirded me out.

  I dropped the box on the table in front of him and pulled the lid back, then watched as this tiny human struggled with which donut to choose. In the end, the chocolate-covered won. With the first bite, he left a smear of chocolate across his cheek, so I went to get him a napkin.

  “Dad,” he called out as I came back into the dining room.

  “Yeah?” Zac called back.

  “Why did the man ask Laney for her phone number?”

  Where I stood, I had a direct line to the front door and Zac. I hadn’t thought Dylan was paying attention to my conversation with Justin. Apparently, I’d been wrong.

  Zac froze for a good thirty seconds, then turned just slightly so he could see me. His jaw tightened then he pushed to his feet and stalked over to us.

  “What do you mean?” he asked when he got to us.

  “The man at the doughnuts.”

  My heart thumped against my ribs. Zac didn’t look mad… just curious.

  When I glanced up at Porter, who’d followed Zac into the room, he wore a stupid little smirk that made me want to smack him upside the head. When he raised his eyebrows, I flipped him the middle finger and moved slightly away from them.

  “Well, bud… sometimes when a guy sees a pretty girl, they want to spend time with them,” he explained. “The first step is to ask for their phone number so you can call them and set up a date.”

  I couldn’t be sure Dylan was listening to him, though when Zac asked if he understood, he said yes and continued eating. But Zac smiled and shook his head, then returned to the front door. I followed.

  “It was Justin Coleman. From school,” I said, even though nobody’d asked.

  “Oh, that fucker,” Porter said with a groan.

  Zac chuckled.

  “I said no,” I reassured him. Still, Zac didn’t say anything. “Zac?”

  “What do you want me say, Laney?” He turned toward me. “I know you wouldn’t give some guy your number when we’re together.” He took two steps until we were almost toe to toe. “You’re beautiful. Obviously, guys will ask you out.”

  “Laney,” Dylan called from the other room. “Can I have your phone number?”

  “See?” Zac said, then he burst into a loud laugh. It was contagious. I couldn’t help but laugh too. Zac turned back to Porter and shrugged. “My boy has good taste.”

  Idiots.

  The both of them.

  Once they finished up their job on the doors, Zac handed me the keys. I dropped one of them in his hand saying that he’d always had a spare key. No need for that to change. Then the three of them left. Zac had plans with Dylan that afternoon which left me to veg out on the couch.

  After watching far too much television most of the day, I decided to pull those big girl panties on and start on Dad’s room. Especially now that I knew there was something in there that someone else wanted.

  After this, I’d just have the attic left and I had no idea what he kept up there. Hopefully not much because I’d only ever gone up there once when I was younger, and it was creepy as hell.

  Dad’s room would probably take me the longest due to the amount of breaks I’d need when things became too much.

  I’d need breaks.

  He’d been gone a little over two months and I was holding myself together as well as I could by pushing all thoughts of him out of my head and I knew I couldn’t do that forever.

  The old wood door creaked as I opened it and stood there just staring inside.

  A person’s bedroom was the most personal space they had. I didn’t even want to think about what I’d do if I found his porn or something. Actually, I did know what I’d do. I’d march over to Zac’s, where music was playing loud enough that I could hear it even in this room, and beg him, promising any and all sexual favors, to take care of the offending material.

  Even in my thoughts, I was a master of procrastinating.

  Zac had offered to help me, but this was something I needed to do on my own. So instead, he’d told me that after his plans with Dylan, some of the guys were coming over just to play video games. Something Dylan also enjoyed.

  Finally, I stepped over the threshold into Dad’s room, a single box under my arm, and went straight for the closet. Clothes, shoes. Easy, no problem.

  I was about to dive in, ignoring the fact that I was hit with the smell of his cologne as I opened the door. It made my throat burn and my eyes pool with moisture. I tossed all of his shoes in the waiting box. I thought if I moved quickly enough, I wouldn’t have time to break down.

  It worked at first.

  Until I hit a pair of pumps. A pair of bright pink fuck-me heels.

  Oh, dear lord.

  “What the fuck?”

  Who the hell would have been wearing those?

  Chapter Eighteen

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know who owned the fuck-me heels, but I fucking wanted to know if he’d been spending time with someone. Because he’d never once mentioned anyone.

  Was that why he’d never wanted me to come see him? Is this why he insisted instead to come to me?

  Frantically, I tore through the rest of the shoes in the closet, finding four more pair of women’s shoes of various colors and heel size.

  My brain shorted out.

  I didn’t begrudge my dad a love life. It would’ve made me happy that he’d had someone instead of living these last years all alone, but the fact that he’d kept me completely out of part of his life gutted me.

  Absolutely gutted me.

  Jumping to my feet, I pushed through the hangers and stopped cold. A section—albeit a small section—of Dad’s closet was filled with dresses. Women’s dresses.

  My head shook on its own as I ran over to his dresser, yanking the drawer so hard that I almost pulled the whole damn thing out. Sure enough, panties, lacey and sexy.

  I had the urge to throw up. This ball of anger worked its way up from my stomach. There was no sane way to deny it any
longer.

  Why would he have kept this from me? I hadn’t freaked out when Mom began dating. Or when she’d gotten married. And where the hell was this girlfriend? Wouldn’t she have come to get her things after he’d died? Did she know he was gone? Did she even fucking care?

  I hated her already.

  Then it occurred to me that there was one person who would probably know something about this. A person who used to see my dad every damn day and probably would’ve seen his girlfriend at least in passing.

  Without thinking about it, I jogged over to Zac’s and pounded on the door.

  It took two rounds of pounding before anyone heard me. They had the freaking game up so loud, along with all their boy trash talk. Even little Dylan got in on it. Porter finally opened the door.

  “Laney, ‘bout time you made your way over here.” He smiled but blocked my view of everyone inside.

  “I need Zac.”

  “I bet you do.” He smirked in the way only Porter could. The way that made me want to laugh and punch him in the throat all at the same time. Then he stepped aside so I could see Zac on the couch owning the controller like it was his job. Boys. I never understood the draw of video games. “It’s for you,” Porter said as he dropped down beside Zac. Andy and Jay were on the floor paying no attention to me at all. The one guy there that I didn’t recognize only gave me a quick a glance.

  I remained outside because I didn’t want to have this conversation in front of the other guys. When Zac glanced up at me, he tossed the controller to Porter and hopped up at the same time. After crossing the room, he closed the door behind him. Both doors, not even just the screen.

  He must’ve seen something on my face.

  “Hey.” He leaned down, kissing me quickly, or what was supposed to be quickly, but the “Mmm….” sound he made kept him there a little longer. “Want me to kick them all out?” he asked, pulling back.

  Laughing sadly, I said, “No.” These guys, my friends, made me feel better just by existing. All of the emotions from what I’d found in my dad’s room got knocked down a few notches.

  I could breathe again.

  “I will. Trust me,” he continued. “I won’t even feel bad. Dylan would stay, of course, but the other fuckers can go.”

  “That’s OK.” I moved over to lean against the railing. He followed. “I finally made it into my dad’s room.”

  His eyebrows shot up as he leaned in next to me. “Let me kick them out. I’ll help you. Porter can watch Dylan,” he said. I shook my head again, biting my bottom lip to rethink the rollercoaster I’d just been on. “You OK?” he asked.

  “Did… ” I sighed. “Did he have a girlfriend? I mean, he never said anything about it to me, but I figure you lived next door to him. You’d know. Or at least suspect.”

  Zac shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms across his chest. Yeah, I noticed the way his muscles popped when he did that. It wasn’t really the time, but my hormones ran amuck whenever he was around. They always had. “A girlfriend? Obviously not. Why would you ask that?”

  “In his closet. There’s a bunch of women’s clothes and shoes. It isn’t stuff my mom left behind. That’s for sure.”

  He stood there beside silently.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” He stared at the ground like it might hold the answer. Yet he wouldn’t be holding back from me. Or he’d be stupid to, especially about something like this. “Women’s clothes?” he asked.

  “Yup.” I squeezed the railing tightly as if it was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I’m glad I’m not the only confused one.”

  He chuckled quietly. We stayed quiet for I didn’t know how long, not saying a word.

  The guys inside continued playing their game, yelling and ribbing each other without swearing, probably because Dylan was right there. It sounded easy and fun and so unlike what I was feeling. And it was adorable the way they kept almost slipping but filling in with another word. To hear potty mouth Porter replace “Fuck you” with “Flip you”—now that was priceless.

  “What are you going to do?” he finally asked.

  “Pack the shit up,” I answered, not realizing that I’d already made that decision. “Whoever she is should’ve come to get her stuff before I got here because it’s going to Goodwill. I can’t even deal with some weird meeting now. It’d just be too much.”

  “Hey,” he stood up straight with a serious look on his face, “Do you think that’s who was in your dad’s room the other night? Like maybe she had a key?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. But she should’ve knocked.”

  Wrapping me in his arms, he held me there, then kissed the top of my head.

  “I wish you weren’t going through any of this,” he murmured into my hair.

  “Me, too.” I thought about that for a second, then pulled back to look up at him. “But you know I wouldn’t have come back if this hadn’t happened. Not now anyway,” I admitted. He nodded slowly. “So we still wouldn’t be talking. I mean, no offense, I’d rather have my dad not have died, but you know you wouldn’t be holding me right now otherwise.”

  “I know. And as much as I would hate to live the rest of my life without you in it, I would still rather you not be dealing with this.”

  We stood like that for a while until I finally pushed away from him to get back to the task at hand. I didn’t have to look back to know he watched me until I closed my door behind me.

  Back home, I sat in Dad’s bedroom for the longest time staring at that closet and wondering about the woman who’d spent the end of my dad’s life with him.

  Was she nice? Would I have liked her?

  There weren’t any other signs of her in his house, but she had to have spent time there. Her clothes took up residence in his closet, for God’s sake. The more I thought about it, the more I teetered between sad and pissed off.

  Tears trailed down my cheeks before I knew I was crying. I wanted to know why he hadn’t told me about her. Dad must’ve known I’d understood about their divorce and hadn’t given my mom a hard time when she’d started dating or when she’d announced that she was marrying Mitch.

  They were people who deserved to be loved, after all. But why in the hell had my own father felt like this part of his life hadn’t been something he could share with me?

  There’d been many times over the previous two months that I’d wished I could talk to my dad again, even if only for five minutes, but none as badly as this moment.

  I was questioning our entire relationship.

  Finally, I pushed off the bed and dumped the entire contents of the closet into three large boxes, the boxes went into the garage, and Dad’s door got slammed shut.

  I’d had enough emotional trauma for one day.

  I was in my pajamas on the couch with a pint of Karamel Sutra before I had a chance to think about it anymore.

  The noise next door got a little louder. A couple of feminine giggles came from Zac’s front porch as set the empty container on the coffee table and laid down on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest while listening to the neighborhood enjoy the summer.

  I wondered where Dylan was in all this, but after glancing at the clock and realizing that right when the noise got louder it quickly quieted back down, I figured Dylan was probably in bed. Zac had said that sometimes they moved their get together to the yard when Dylan went to bed. Hence the getting louder. They were now outside.

  Something crawled up my leg as I lay there with my eyes shut in that weird not-asleep-but-not-awake state.

  First thing that came my mind was spider, so I kicked my leg with my other foot to hopefully squish that little sucker. But no, it crawled back up my leg. This time I kicked it harder, only to be met by a deep chuckle.

  Wait. Spiders don’t chuckle. In a burst of panic, I pushed myself up, ready to fight for my life.

  Instead of an intruder or the biggest spider known to man, I found Zac sitting on the opposite end of the couch as casual as could be, his index f
inger running over his top lip to hide the little grin.

  “What are you doing here?” That might not have come out the exact way that I’d meant it to. To my ears, it sounded pretty harsh.

  “It was getting a little crowded at my place, so I came over to see if you were awake. You fell asleep with the front door open.” He scowled down at me. Oops. Not that he wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have slept with my door completely open and unlocked for anyone to traipse right through. It was stupid, but I hadn’t expected to fall asleep.

  “I was watching TV,” I said. His hand went back to my leg, wrapping around my ankle, and his fingers trailed across the skin there. “Why’d it get crowded?” I asked.

  “Porter stopped seeing Nicole a while back… ” he said. “Apparently, dating a stripper isn’t everything he’s ever dreamed it would be. Anyway, she came over and brought a friend and I think she’s trying to make Porter jealous.”

  “Porter doesn’t get jealous,” I said back. He never had as long as I’d known him at least.

  “Exactly but in the trying, let’s just say the room got really uncomfortable. I made them go out into the backyard so he could deal with it. He fucking knows better than to let things go too far with my kid there.”

  I was pretty sure I didn’t want him to elaborate on what “too far” meant. Whether because “too far” meant they were doing something nasty to make Porter jealous or if an argument had broken out. I didn’t really care enough to want details.

  He just kept watching me. That was all it took to encourage me climb over on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Now this I like,” he said with a smile.

  Since I wanted to shut him up, I did it with my lips. His hands squeezed my hips as my mouth worked against his, my tongue sliding against his, causing him to groan.

  Zac tentatively trailed his fingers around to my stomach under the pink cotton tank top I had on. All I did was create a little extra room between us and that was enough for him to slide his hands farther up until they cupped my breasts.

  My shirt pushed up as he moved.