Page 75 of Ruthless Dream

“Adeline!”

“I can’t live in the library twenty-four seven,” I defend.

“You are studying, aren’t you?” There’s a hint of fatherly concern.

“I’m not failing my classes,” I assure him. College is hard, and it’s stupid how ashamed I am of feeling like I’m buried deep with essays and projects.

Dad softens. He can sense something even when we’re in the middle of a tiff. “You work hard, Ads. Are you taking care of yourself?”

I stopped to treat myself to a coffee and pastry before my next round of studying. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Eating?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Brain food, Ads.”

“God, it’s like you want me to gain a freshman fifteen.” Luckily, running between classes, the library, and Ciaran’s apartment provides daily exercise since there’s no time for the gym. “I’m eating veggies and protein, I promise.”

“And resting?” he asks. “I know you, Adeline. You used to stay up late studying all the time.”

I take another sip of my latte. Because I like meeting up with friends and messing around with the guards, this natural party persona has formed around me. Dad and Mom would have killed me, though, if I’d ever done badly in school. Plus the people pleaser in me can’t bear to let anyone down. I know how to keep my head down and study. My workload is just a lot higher than back in high school.

“I’m fine,” I promise Dad. “Really.”

He makes a noise under his breath like he wants to disagree.

“What’s going on?” I ask, wondering if there’s more to this phone call.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m just checking in on my youngest.”

“Did Mom tell you what she wants to do for her birthday?”

We chat all the way to the library, and even then I stand right outside, the conversation going long since we haven’t spoken in a few weeks.

“Adeline,” he says when we’re winding down. His voice has shifted, and I prepare to listen to the thing he’s wanted to say this whole time. “You know it would only take one simple word from you and he goes away.”

I don’t hold back a snort. “Dad, I’ll tell you what I told Nat. He’s just a boyfriend. Maybe he'll be here this time next year, or maybe we’ll have broken up, and I’ll be dating someone entirely new.”

“Or,” Dad advises, “what if you merely did your old man a favor and dated no one.”

“I have no problems becoming a spinster, always living with you and Mom.” The joke works because I hear his smile.

“I am simply saying—with this boy or any other—you say the word and he is gone.”

Buried six feet under. Swimming with the fishes. Dad has joked before about getting rid of my boyfriends, but in that classic, I’ll be cleaning my weapons when your date arrives to pick you up, type of way.

We never talk about all the things Dad can do, and has done, before.

The one good thing about this arrangement with Ciaran is we both know there is an end date. Ciaran scoffed at the idea of marrying me, and the feeling was very mutual when he first tangled me in his grasp.

We both know we’ll end up walking away. Ciaran will build his credit before then, and I’ll have a successful first serious relationship under my belt.

I never thought I’d be the girl who’d be okay with being dumped, but there is less tension knowing Ciaran isn’t my one and only. Like I’m free to turn off a part of myself that cries at the idea of making a mistake. None of that matters since Ciaran will eventually return to Dublin.

A protectiveness creeps over me, though. “Dad, let’s leave Ciaran alone for right now, okay?”

Maybe in a few years, they’ll be on better terms. Eventually, my dad will get over his protectiveness after he has a conversation with Ciaran and realizes he’s not all that bad.