“Her. —The Journal of Taylor B. TristanBY THE TIME morning rolled around, I was one giant conflicted mess. My father had called and asked about business — the typical conversations usually lasted around three minutes. Was he still rich? Was I keeping my nose clean? Whatever the hell that meant. Had I ever let him down? Even once in my life? And the last, my personal favorite… have I returned any of Erica’s calls?Yes, yes, and no. But I’d said yes in hopes it would appease him. Talking to her see...med about as fun as calling Gabe and having him run me over with his car.I woke Lisa up. She was quiet, pensive. I imagined I’d given her too much to think about. With a wince, I let her have her silent time. I knew I’d probably pushed her boundaries a bit, but I didn’t want casual, not with her. She had to know that about me. Casual was meant for women I’d once met at my dad’s hotel. Casual and Lisa did not fit in the same sentence. If we did this, if she truly let me in, I’d be hers forever, but I refused to let her think I was like him, so I’d pushed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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