Play You: A Second Chance/Single Dad Romance (Rebel Ink Book 4) Page 11

Not long after, she stomps up the stairs like a toddler having a tantrum.

  "Night, Emmie," I sing with a laugh.

  "Night, Dad." I swear I hear a smile in her voice. She might pretend to hate me, but I know deep down she's craving the routine and rules I'm forcing on her. Hell knows her mother never did.

  I find the kitchen spotless as I walk in—aside from the pizza box. Okay, so she didn't spend all day on the sofa. I know it didn't look like this earlier.

  Reaching into the top cupboard, I pull a bottle of Jack down and tip a generous measure into a glass.

  I watch as the amber liquid swirls around for a few seconds, its scent permeating the air before I knock it back.

  Flicking off the lights, I make my way up. Soft music plays from Emmie's bedroom as I pass, but I don't say anything. She's up here and in her room; there's only so much I can demand of her. She's sixteen, a young woman. It's easy to forget and think she's still my little quirky six-year-old.

  Making my way to my room, I close the door behind me and look around.

  Piper might never have been here—no woman has, actually—but still, it feels empty, cold.

  Stripping out of my clothes, I drop them into the laundry and walk straight into my en suite and turn the shower on. I make quick work of cleaning up before whipping a towel around my body, brushing my teeth and falling into my bed.

  I grab my phone and respond to the couple of messages I had that I ignored when I sent one to Piper earlier. I confirm with Mum that Emmie and I will be there for Sunday lunch tomorrow and barely crack a smile at the meme Titch sent.

  I find myself staring at Piper's reply from earlier. A few responses float around my head, but in the end, I decide that actions speak louder. Pushing the sheets as low as possible without exposing myself—one step at a time—I snap a selfie of my tense abs, chest, and up to my chin.

  Dawson: What are you wearing in bed?

  I attach the picture and stare at the screen, waiting to see if she's awake.

  The little ticks alert me to the fact that she is, and in another second, the dots start bouncing.

  Piper: Nothing, and I'm cold ;-) Night, Dawson x

  Dawson: You can't say things like that to me. Now I'm anything but cold.

  She sends back three sleeping emojis, effectively cutting off our conversation. Closing down my apps, I place my phone on the charger beside my bed and lay staring at the ceiling while my cock tents the duvet.

  She’s teasing me, I know that. But damn, the idea of her lying there alone and naked does all kinds of crazy things to me. Things I've not felt in years, and most definitely things I should not be feeling now. She's the one who's meant to fall under my spell. It's not meant to be the other way around.

  By some miracle I manage not to spend the night reliving my moments with Piper, and, not long after I switch the light out, I fall fast asleep.

  The sun is bright when I next open my eyes, although when I look at the alarm clock sitting on my bedside table, I find it's only eight AM.

  Dragging my arse from the bed, I get ready for the day before heading down to make coffee. The house is in silence. I assume that Emmie is still sleeping, but that's not going to last very long.

  With a steaming mug of coffee in hand, I climb the stairs once more and knock on her door.

  "Em, it's time to get up," I call through.

  "Go away."

  "No can do. We've got work to do."

  She groans. "I hate you." Her voice is muffled, as if she's pulled her pillow over her head.

  "I can cope with that. I'm coming in. I've got coffee," I say as a peace offering.

  I push the door open. Her room is in total darkness, not helped by the black paint she insisted on covering the walls in the first week she moved here.

  As expected, I find that she's just a lump under the duvet.

  "I'll just leave this here, but if you're not down and ready to work in thirty minutes then I'm coming to drag you down there myself."

  "I think I made a mistake. Can I go back to Mum's?"

  I laugh at her, because we both know she's joking. And not just because neither of us knows where her mother is right now.

  I might be hard on her, but I know she’s desperate for rules and routine. Deep, deep down. She just doesn't want to admit it.

  "Okay, kiddo. Twenty-eight minutes now." I leave her room and head back toward my own coffee.

  To my amazement, twenty minutes later Emmie appears with an empty mug, dressed in an oversized hoodie.

  "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." I watch as she pads over to the coffee machine for a refill.

  "This school had better be really bloody good, Dad. It's not even nine AM on a Sunday morning."

  "It will be worth it. You got everything we need?"

  She nods toward a folder on the bookcase, and I reach over and grab it, flicking through all the information that Piper gave her.

  Turns out that she's already done most of it.

  "Em, why didn't you tell me?"

  She shrugs. "I don't just stare at the TV while you're not here, you know."

  "I know, but I didn't think..."

  "Dad," she sighs, turning to look at me and resting back on the counter with her fresh coffee in her hands. "I'm not a complete fuck-up."

  "I know that, Em. Come sit with me," I say, ignoring her language.

  We go through everything and look at the emails I've received this week with her timetable and other information. I know she doesn't need me to do this. She's a bright young lady, but she humours me, nonetheless.

  Once we're done, I convince her to come for a run with me, which she reluctantly agrees to before we get ready to spend the afternoon with my parents.

  We don't often do the family thing, but every now and then Mum insists on having us all together. She also attempts to ban Dad and Cruz from talking about business, but that's yet to happen. As long as none of their conversations have anything to do with Piper, then I'm happy.

  I glance at Emmie as she shoves her feet into her boots, ready to leave. A warning about not saying anything about Piper is right on the tip of my tongue, but as of yet, she has no idea there's anything between us. I really hope I can keep it that way so Emmie doesn't get dragged into this mess.

  "Everything okay?" she asks, looking back at me with her brows pulled together.

  "Yeah, just looking forward to an afternoon with your grandparents."

  "I think I might be more willing to go to school a day early." I want to chastise her, but to be fair, I'm not exactly looking forward to this afternoon either.

  14

  Piper

  Thankfully, Lisa is already on the phone when I sneak past reception Monday morning, but I know I'm not going to be able to hide from her forever. I'm amazed I got through yesterday without an inquisition after the way I was rudely dragged away.

  I slip into my office and close the door behind me.

  I want to put him out of my mind, but with the image sitting on my phone that I've stared at for entirely too long since he sent it Saturday night, and the knowledge that he's going to be here today dropping off and picking up Emmie, I can't.

  I didn't want to allow him back in. I shouldn't allow him back in—it's dangerous, and not just for my heart—but I don't seem to be able to keep him at bay.

  Those things he said to me outside my flat on Saturday afternoon… I can't stop thinking about them. Does he really want to give us a second shot?

  Or is this just a game, so he can hand me over to his dad?

  He'd have done it already, a little voice says in my head.

  If he wanted revenge, if he wanted to see me pay even more for the mistakes I made, then surely he'd have already handed me over to the devil himself?

  Fear races through my veins as I think of Charles Ramsey. My father was scary when you got on the wrong side of him, but he was nothing like Charles. It’s why Dad was so desperate for some inside information. He knew he'd never be able to
touch him without it. He's too powerful, too much of an enigma.

  I blow out a breath and fall down onto my desk.

  I have two choices.

  I either believe him and allow myself to be swept away by the one man I've ever loved. Or I stand firm and walk away from what could be the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, how many people really get a second chance like this?

  My head is still spinning when my door opens and a familiar head pokes inside.

  "Nice try, bitch. You can't get away from me that easily."

  I groan as she drops her arse into my chair.

  "Don't you have new kid drama to deal with or something?" I ask with a roll of my eyes. I reach forward and turn my computer on so I don't have to look at her.

  "So..." she starts.

  "So we went to the cinema. Then he took me home because he had to work."

  "Piper, don't. Don't do that."

  "Do what? It's what happened," I say innocently.

  "And you're just going to ignore the fact that he turned up and went all alpha on your arse."

  "Um... yeah?"

  "Girl, it was so fucking hot. How you didn't jump him right there on the street, I don't know."

  "Jesus, Lis. I'm not an out-of-control hormonal teenager."

  "With a man like that following you around, you should be."

  "Things aren't that simple."

  "Really? Seems that way from where I'm sitting. You’re single, he's single. I assume. What's the issue?"

  "It's... it's nothing," I say with a sigh. I can't talk about what happened back then. Not only would Lisa probably not believe me, but I don't want anyone knowing. The risk of being found is too huge. "How often do second chances really work out anyway?"

  "With chemistry like you two are rocking, I'd say you've got a very good chance, Piper."

  "We'll see."

  "When are you seeing him again?"

  "Um... I don't know. He said he'd be in touch."

  "Oh, mysterious. Maybe he'll walk in here and throw you over his shoulder."

  "I really hope not. Did Henry say anything about me leaving on Friday night?" I ask, realising that I didn't get to ask her on Saturday morning.

  "He looked pretty disappointed for a bit, but he soon found a replacement."

  I nod and force a smile onto my lips. I don't want to hurt Henry. He's been a good friend to me since I started here. Not that I have a lot of choice in how things played out on Friday night.

  "Do you mind? I really need to..." I point at my now awake computer, hoping that she'll get my not-so-subtle message.

  Our sixth formers are starting today, which means I've got a full day introducing myself and welcoming our new students. The majority of our cohort are returning after doing their GCSEs here, but there are a few, Emmie Ramsey included, who are starting fresh.

  I go through my emails, pull up the files on all our new students, and familiarise myself with their names and photos before heading out to find Henry ready for his inspirational 'this is the first day of the rest of your lives' assembly that I'm sure is to come.

  "Hey," I say, finding him at the entrance to the sixth form common room, welcoming everyone in.

  Cars are spilling in and out of the car park, but as of yet, I haven’t heard the rumble of Dawson's bike. Assuming he doesn't also have a car, of course.

  "Hey, how are you?" I have no idea if it's my imagination or not, but his voice seems a little clipped.

  "I-I'm good thanks. Did you have a good night Friday?" I ask with a wince, not wanting to pussyfoot around the situation.

  "It was... fine."

  Ouch.

  His eyes turn on me, and all I see is disappointment in them.

  Fuck.

  "He's an old friend," I blurt out before kicking myself. I really don't want to talk about this, especially with Henry.

  "Didn't look very old to me," he mutters, nodding at a group of students who walk our way.

  "Yeah, well..."

  "It's fine, Piper. This," he says, gesturing between us, "was just a bit of fun. We both knew that."

  Did we?

  "I-I know. I wasn't expecting him to be there on Friday. It was as much as a surprise for me."

  Someone calls my name, but not before I hear Henry mutter, "I'm not so sure about that."

  My stomach twists as one of the students I spent a lot of time with last year bounces up to me to say hello. I don't want to hurt him, and I fear that I might not have been clear enough about the fact that there really was nothing between us but a bit of easy fun.

  I glance back at him once I'm alone again, but he's been swallowed up by the football team.

  I watch them for a second before a familiar rumble shakes my body.

  I tell myself not to turn around, but it's pointless. The pull I feel to him is already as strong—if not stronger—than it ever was.

  My eyes land on him as he flies into the car park and pulls into the bike parking, which unfortunately is the closest possible place to where I'm standing right now.

  The second he brings the bike to a stop, he rips his helmet from his head, his eyes already on me.

  Fire burns through my veins as our eyes lock. A smirk pulls at his lips as we watch each other.

  It's not until he turns to Emmie, who is now off the back of his bike, that our connection is broken.

  "Well, I guess that answers the question of how you reconnected," a familiar voice whispers in my ear. His heat burns into my back, telling me that he's entirely too close. Not just because students are around, but because Dawson is right there.

  Something tells me he won't take too kindly to Henry starting a pissing contest. I'm also pretty sure who'd win said contest.

  "Yeah, it was a shock. If you did your own meeting, then maybe it wouldn't have happened," I snap. I know that wasn't his fault—he was called away on an emergency—but still. I remember all too well how terrified I was the moment I saw him there.

  "It's time to get started, Miss Hill. Please ensure your personal life doesn't impact your ability to do your job."

  My lips part in shock that he'd ever assume I would put my job second. I've worked my arse off for him and our students since the first morning I started here.

  Arsehole.

  I'm just about to turn to follow him inside when Dawson's burning stare stops me in my tracks.

  I look up at him. His eyes are narrowed, and even from this distance, I can see they're darker than usual. He shakes his head slowly before his lips part.

  "Mine," he mouths, causing butterflies to erupt in my stomach and desire to head south. What is it about his caveman act that hits me quite so hard?

  Lifting my hand, I wave at him, attempting to ignore what he's trying to get at.

  His lips curl into a small smile at my move.

  I'm still rooted to the spot as he pulls his helmet on, revs the engine, and flies from the car park.

  "Hello, Emmie. All ready for your first day?" I ask when she gets to me.

  "What's the deal with you and my dad?" she asks, diving straight into the deep end.

  "Oh... um... nothing."

  She narrows her eyes at me as if she's seeing much more than her sixteen-year-old self should. But then I guess she is Dawson's daughter, so it stands to reason that she might possess the same power to get under my skin.

  "Really? Something tells me that you didn't just meet last week."

  "You would be correct. We knew each other as kids."

  "Right."

  "Mr. Davenport will be waiting for you. I'll catch up with you later to see how you're getting on, okay?"

  "I can't wait, Miss Hill." She smiles sweetly, but it's all an act. I've met her twice, and I'm already learning that she's as much as an enigma as the other Ramseys I know.

  Fucking hell.

  After rounding up the few lingering stray students, I head inside and close the doors behind me.

  Glancing around the room of students, I find Emmie si
tting right in the back at the corner, hiding. I'm not surprised; she doesn't seem like the kind of kid who'll throw herself straight into the popular crowd.

  Henry stands on the stage, commanding everyone's attention. All the students silently stare at him, waiting for him to launch into his speech.

  "Today is the first day of the rest of your lives..." How did I know? I roll my eyes and stand at the back of the room as he continues.

  A light knock sounds out on my door.

  "Come in," I call out, but I already know who it is. I called for her ten minutes ago.

  "Hi," Emmie says nervously, stepping into my office. She might think I'm doing this because of her dad, but it's not true. Throughout today, I'm meeting all our new students before I start making my way through our long-term ones.

  "Come and take a seat."

  "Sure." She drops her bag to the floor with a thud and flops down.

  "Have you not found your locker yet?" I ask, wondering just how heavy her bag is with the sound of the bang.

  "No, not yet."

  "Okay, well I can show you where it is if you're not sure."

  "I'm sure I can cope." She tilts her chin and stares at me.

  "I'm sure you can. But the offer is there if you need it." Silence falls between us before I turn to my screen and open her file. I know most of it; I studied it after she and Dawson left last week.

  "This isn't a special meeting, Emmie. Over the coming days, every lower sixth student will sit in that chair."

  "Good to know." She has zero expression on her face. She's even harder to read than her father, and that’s saying something.

  Okay.

  "Let's start with your grades. They—"

  "Were shit, I'm aware. There's no need to beat around the bush here. Dad thought this place would sort me out. It might. You know the school I've come from, and I’m sure you know its reputation. The fact that I finished with any grades and didn't end up stabbed or shot is a miracle."

  "Yes, it's not one of the city’s finest."

  She snorts. "Look," she says, sitting forward in her chair and resting her elbows on my desk. "I don't know what you think of me. Quite frankly, I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks. They can stare at me all they like. I know I don't fit in, and I don't want to.