DADDY'S DIRTY SECRETS

The leather backseat of Brody’s Honda Civic was freezing, but I was sweating.

​It was messy, rushed, and completely entirely awkward, but I didn't care. I just needed the distraction. I grabbed the collar of Brody’s jacket, pulling him closer, trying to focus on the heat of his mouth against my neck instead of the massive knot of anger that had been sitting in my chest for months.

​"Wait, hold up," Brody mumbled, his breath hot against my skin as he shifted his weight. His knee dug into the door handle.

​"Just shut up and kiss me," I whispered back, pulling his face down again.

​I didn't want to think. I didn't want to think about my mom working another double shift at the hospital. And I definitely didn't want to think about Vance, her brand-new husband, sitting in my living room, acting like he owned the place. I needed to feel something else. Anything else.

​Brody’s hands were rough, sliding up my thighs, pushing my skirt up higher. My heart hammered against my ribs. We were right on the edge. The windows were completely fogged up, the cheap vanilla air freshener mixing with the heavy, heated air in the car. I closed my eyes, finally letting my guard down, finally letting the tension snap—

​Bang. Bang. Bang.

​I nearly jumped out of my skin.

​A bright, blinding light cut through the fogged-up window, flashing directly into my eyes. Someone was laughing outside.

​"Whoa, shit!" Brody scrambled backward, hitting his head on the roof of the car.

​My heart dropped into my stomach. I yanked my skirt down frantically, my face burning as I tried to cover myself. Brody didn't even look at me. He just reached over and rolled down the window, letting a blast of freezing night air into the car.

​"Dude, seriously?" a guy's voice cracked up laughing.

​I peeked over Brody’s shoulder. It was Matt and Chloe. Of course. Brody’s idiot friends from campus. Matt was holding his phone flashlight, grinning like he had just won the lottery, while Chloe giggled beside him, covering her mouth.

​"Man, you parked right in front of the convenience store," Matt laughed. "You couldn't find a darker street?"

​I expected Brody to be pissed. I expected him to tell them to screw off, to roll the window back up, to defend the fact that we were literally in the middle of something.

​Instead, Brody just laughed. He actually laughed.

​"My bad, man," Brody chuckled, leaning out the window. "Didn't realize you guys were on a snack run."

​My jaw clenched. The heat between us was completely dead. The heavy, desperate feeling I had a minute ago vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp sting of reality. To him, this wasn't an escape. It wasn't even important. It was just a funny story he’d joke about with his friends tomorrow.

​"We'll leave you to it," Chloe giggled, pulling Matt away. "See ya, Brody."

​"Yeah, later." Brody rolled the window back up and turned to me, a stupid grin still on his face. "Sorry about that. Anyway, where were we?"

​He reached for my leg again. I slapped his hand away.

​"Don't," I snapped, fixing my shirt and grabbing my purse from the floorboard. "I'm done. Just take me home."

​Brody blinked, clearly confused. "Are you mad? Come on, Harper, it was just Matt. It’s not a big deal."

​"Just drive, Brody."

​The ride home was completely silent. He didn't try to apologize, and I didn't try to explain. He pulled over at the corner, a full block away from my house, just like we always did so my mom wouldn't hear his loud exhaust.

​"Catch you later," he said casually as I opened the door.

​"Yeah. Whatever." I slammed the door shut and didn't look back.

​The night air was freezing as I walked down the quiet, empty street. My skin felt tight. I was frustrated, angry, and still completely pent-up. Nothing had been solved. I just felt cheap.

​I reached my driveway and stared at the house. The front windows were completely dark. My mom's car was gone she wouldn't be back from the hospital until morning. That meant it was just me and him.

​I walked around to the back of the house, my sneakers quiet against the damp grass. The back porch light was broken. I slid my key into the kitchen door, turning it as slowly as humanly possible so the deadbolt wouldn't click too loud.

​The door opened with a soft creak. I slipped inside, closing it gently behind me.

​The kitchen was pitch black. I let out a slow breath, dropping my keys into my purse so they wouldn't jingle. I just needed to make it across the tiles, up the stairs, and into my room.

​I took one step forward in the dark. Then another.

​On the third step, I slammed face-first into what felt like a solid wall.

​A sharp gasp escaped my throat, my hands flying up to brace myself. But it wasn't a wall. It was a chest. A very hard, very warm chest wrapped in a cotton t-shirt. Strong fingers immediately wrapped around my upper arms, holding me in place before I could stumble backward.

​Click.

​The overhead kitchen lights flared on, blinding me for a second.

​I blinked against the harsh light, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up.

​Vance.

​He was standing right in front of me, a glass of water in one hand, his other hand gripping my arm. He was dressed in sweatpants and a tight grey shirt, his dark hair messy like he had been awake for hours.

​The silence in the kitchen was deafening. My heart started pounding all over again, but this time, it was pure panic.

​Vance didn't say a word. He didn't ask where I had been. He didn't ask why I was sneaking in at 1 AM.

​Instead, his dark eyes slowly trailed down from my face. I watched his gaze drop to the messy, unbuttoned collar of my shirt. I watched him notice the red, irritated skin on my neck where Brody had been kissing me. I watched him take in my flushed cheeks and my completely ruined hair.

​When his eyes finally met mine again, the casual, easygoing stepdad act was completely gone.

​A slow, terrifyingly dark smirk spread across his lips.

​"Have a good night, Harper?"