Page 114 of The KING Review

Professor Daddy:

You already asked me that.

Me:

I know, but I just want to check you’re not putting on a brave face for me

Professor Daddy:

I am. But not just for you. For me too. And for Sera. It’s all I can really do at this point.

I’m okay. I promise. Sera’s happy as a clam and I feel better after talking to you.

Me:

you sure?

Professor Daddy:

Yes, angel. I’m sure.

Me:

good. I’m going to go make tea and try not to text you every sixty seconds

Professor Daddy:

You can text me whenever you want. I’ll always answer.

Me:

you’re going to regret saying that

Professor Daddy:

I could never.

I’m so absorbed in the back-and-forth that the knock at my door makes me physically jolt, and I nearly launch my phone into orbit. I scramble upright, heart in my mouth.

“Who is it?” I call, gunning for the peephole.

“It’s me, little Hart. Let me in,” Cade’s voice echoes through the door. My brow furrows.

I unlock the deadbolt and swing the door open. Cade stands on the threshold, hair damp from the drizzle, jacket casually slung over his shoulder. There’s a bottle in his hand and an amused tilt to his smile.

I arch a brow. “Shouldn’t you be with Grant, plying him with whiskey and manly wisdom?”

The smile turns to a grin. “Manly wisdom isn’t really my thing.”

“Thank God,” I gust out on a laugh. “I’m eternally grateful you’re not the toxic masculinity type.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know your sister would never put up with me if I were.”

I try to picture my sister, queen of the quantified heart, tolerating even a single minute of red-pill bullshit. It’s impossible. The universe would collapse in on itself like a dying star.

I lean in the doorway, arms crossed. “You’re telling me you didn’t go over there at all? No boy therapy?”

Cade snorts. “Yeah, don’t worry, I was just with him,” he says, rolling the words like a coin across his knuckles. “But Sera’s there, of course. He’s in Dad-mode.”