{Complete}
-Formerly, Searching for Sirens-
Zander Armstrong, Pirate MC prospect, has never felt more betrayed than finding his girlfriend in bed with his best guy friend and fellow future Pirate. Though having said girl leave him for that same frie...
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Z (7:37 am) - We need to talk about everything that happened last night. I don't want to leave things on bad terms.
Z (8:15 am) - Ollie, please. I know you said you needed space, but I have to see you.
Z (8:43 am) - Can I take you to the New Years' party?
I stare at his text message, unsure of what even to answer. So much for space. The damn chime is what woke me up first thing this morning. I've been staring at my phone for ten minutes, trying to figure out how to reply.
Do I want to go with Zane? Fuck yes.
Last night has my head so jumbled, though. I know I should be logical about this. Zane either has really bad fucking timing, or he's just competing with Creed again. I want to believe him, but it's not like he's shown a lot of interest before. Glimpses here and there, sure, but not like this.
Frustrated, I toss my phone down on my mattress and scoot to the foot of my bed. The house feels empty since Tamarah and dad are on the outs. The holidays took a huge toll on their relationship, and Tee's been staying at her parents' house ever since. Dad was looking forward to introducing her to Uncle Colt and Honey Grams. So when she didn't go to appease her family, it hurt.
I want to say it's been nice to have dad all to myself again selfishly, but honestly, I miss Tee. I know I didn't see her as a mother, but we were starting to feel sort of like a family.
It's been even harder on dad. He isn't exactly someone that's been lucky in love, or maybe he self sabotages. He doesn't keep serious relationships. Tee's been the first one since my mom died.
I pad down the hall and find dad sitting on the couch looking at his phone while he drinks his morning protein shake. His hair is still slightly damp from a shower, and his black tee clings to his still slightly moist skin. He skipped shaving this morning. A rough five-o'clock shadow gives him a rugged look, but I know he's lost the drive to care. His face was often shaggy before he started dating Tamarah. My heart hurts for Daddy.
When I plop down next to him on the beaten sofa and lean into him, he wraps an arm around me and places a comforting hand on top of my head.
"Morning, baby." He doesn't pry his eyes from the screen, and from the flashes of pictures and massive amounts of text, I realize he's running through sports stats.
