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you know?”

He nods. “Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I’m asking.”

Sighing, I start to divulge. “At first, it was odd to know there was someone else in my home. But now, it just feels like she belongs there.” It’s the truth, even though he doesn’t know the entirety of it.

“Just make sure you communicate. If she’s doing something that irritates you, explain it to her calmly.”

I chuckle. “The way I’ve seen you do with mom so many times?”

“Hey, I can’t help it if the way the woman loads the dishwasher drives me mad.”

We share a laugh. “Well, besides leaving the caps off of her pens, and her hair being everywhere, overall she hasn’t been an unpleasant roommate.”

“Have you fought over the toothpaste yet?”

“Toothpaste? You and Mom fight over toothpaste?”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Yup. And refilling the toilet paper. How she folds the towels versus how I do. The list goes on and on, son.”

Well, I guess I’d have to share a bathroom in order to argue with Waverly about a few of those things.

“There have been a few battles, but nothing too dramatic yet.”

“I’m proud of you. It takes a strong man to admit when he’s been blind. I honestly thought you’d never get here.” The appreciative smile he gives me has me wanting to run away so I don’t have to look him in the eye and lie to him ever again.

“Believe me, I think I’m more surprised than you.”

“Sometimes life has a weird way of handing us what we need at just the right time, Hayes. And it seems yours and Waverly’s clocks finally lined up. You know your mom and I would be thrilled and would welcome any woman you brought home …”

“Any woman?” I ask with an arch of my brow.

“Well, not any woman, but you know we’d do our best to accept her if you loved her.”

“I know.”

“I guess it’s just a bonus that you chose Waverly. Your mother is over the moon tonight. And I’m pretty damn happy myself.”

My gut clenches as I smile and raise my wine glass to him. “Glad I could make you proud then, Dad.”

* * *

I need to phone the Devil himself and reserve my spot in hell after that dinner with my parents.

It went so well, perfectly really. The smiles on my parents’ faces as we said goodbye had my stomach twisting in knots the entire way home. Since Waverly indulged in more wine than I did, I safely deposited her in the passenger seat of my car and then slowly made my way back to my house.

Casting a few glances in her direction as I drove, I watched her rest her head on the window as she watched the lights pass us by on the streets of Santa Monica. But the silence was killing me, so I had to start a conversation.

“Did you have a good time?”

I can see her smile from the side. “I did. I forgot how much I love your parents.”

“You like them, huh?”

She nods, veering her eyes over to me for a moment before focusing back on the road in front of us. “I always have. I mean, I never really spent as much time with them as I did tonight, but I remember being around them while growing up, and always thought they were nice people.”

“Yeah, I got pretty lucky in the parent department.”

“You have no idea. It makes me feel even shittier for lying to them tonight,” she admits, which has my heart tripping in my chest.

“Yeah, believe me. That’s all I could think about as the night progressed.”

“That was some pretty convincing acting you did tonight though,” she tosses over at me from her seat.

“Well, I wasn’t about to let my dad lay into you. I felt like it was necessary.”

She clears her throat. “Yeah, I get it. Well, I think it worked.”

“Apparently so.”

I pull into the garage about twenty minutes later and the two of us head inside to get ready for bed. But my mind is still reeling, guilt resting heavily in my chest as I replay lie after lie that was dished out tonight, laying the foundation for the rest of our time together. Anxiousness rolls through my veins, and normally when I get this way, I turn to a glass of whiskey and my piano.

I haven’t touched it since Waverly moved in, but I know if I do, it will help ease some of the tightness in my body. I hate lying to my parents. It’s not who they raised me to be. But the disappointment that transformed into pride on my father’s face tonight both gave me room to breathe and yet suffocated me further at the same time.

Realizing that I’m not going to be able to sleep until I burn off some of this anxiety, I fill a tumbler with whiskey and then head over to my piano while Waverly remains upstairs. I won’t play for that long, especially if she’s set on-going to sleep soon. But I need to touch the keys, get lost in a melody for a moment so my mind can unwind the puzzle of emotions I’m feeling.

As soon as my fingers hit the ivory beneath them, a wave of relief rolls through me. I fire off the beats to Stay by Rhianna, trying not to dive into the subconscious message that my brain chose that song to play. But the music overtakes me as I hum the words. I don’t sing because although I can play the piano something fierce, the good lord did not bless me with the voice to match. But the song flows through me so effortlessly that by the time I’m at the end, I’m completely oblivious to the fact that I had an audience.

“Holy shit, Hayes.”

Flicking my eyes up to search her out, I find Waverly leaning against the archway that separates this front room from the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“I had no idea you could play. I honestly thought that piano was just

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