"Hey," I say as I'm cleaning up our dishes after dinner. "After we check on the food stations, do you want to hang out and watch a movie in Dad's theatre room? He's not coming home tonight; he's staying in the city meeting with some friends, and I'm still mad at Chloe so I don't want to see her yet."

"I can't tonight, I have a date with Lisa."

I almost drop the towel I'm drying my hands with. I didn't know he was seeing Lisa again.

"Oh," I try to hide my disappointment behind a smile. "Maybe another time."

"Are you okay to be alone all night?"

"Of course. You know my father and his crazy security system. I'll just read and watch the bunny hop around my room. I'm still kinda tired, anyway."

"If I had known you wanted to hang out I would have told Lisa I couldn't see her."

"Don't be silly. I'll be fine. I want you to have fun on your date. I'm glad you're giving her another chance." I honestly want to be happy for him, but I feel like Lisa doesn't deserve or appreciate him. How could she when she called him cold and uncaring? She clearly doesn't get him at all.

Tor is unusually quiet and distracted when we check on the food traps, and he opts out of our ritual of sitting on the rock and making wishes. I'm disappointed, because I love our little rituals, but I assume he wants to get to his date and I've probably worn out my welcome by now. An unexpected call from me for a ride home has turned into me spending the entire day at his house.

When he brings me home, he insists on walking me inside and then tells me he has to wash his hands before heading back out to meet Lisa because she thinks he smells like motorcycle grease and meat. I've actually always liked the faint smell of motorcycle grease because it's such a part of him, but I suppose most women may not feel the same way. I watch his truck back out of our long driveway before I engage the security system and retreat to my room. As I'm running water for a bath, my cell phone rings.

"Hi, Dad," I answer. "I was getting ready to take a bath. Tor just dropped me off."

"I know, he called me. I wanted to say goodnight and tell you I love you."

I smile into the phone. "I love you, too."

"You okay? I could call Rayne for you and have her stay the night."

"Dad, no. Why does everyone think I need a babysitter? I'm almost eighteen."

"You'll always be a little girl to me, Kenzi. I can't help it."

"I know..."

"I worry about you. That's what fathers do."

"I get it. And it's sweet. I'm going to just chill and read for a while and probably go to bed early. So, what's going on in Boston?"

"Just meeting with a friend who opened a club out here. We're going to have dinner and talk about setting up some shows. I'll be home tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay, I'll be here. Have a good night, Daddy."

"You too, Sunshine."

I sit in the bathtub until the water turns cold, and then I let my dwarf rabbit, Snuggles, out of her cage to hop around my room while I sit on the floor with her and read. She's twelve years old, so she doesn't hop around as much as she used to in her younger days, but sometimes she'll get a spurt of energy and bounce around. She mostly just likes to sit on my fuzzy throw rug and stretch out like a little dog. Tor bought her for me when I was only five years old, and taught me how to clean her cage, make her fresh salads, and hold her without spooking her. My parents didn't think it was a great idea to bring her with us when I travelled with them, so Tor would bunny-sit for me and I would call him every night and make him let me "talk" to the bunny on the phone. And in typical Tor fashion, he would do it and even tell me what she was "saying" back.

The memory brings a smile to my lips, and speak of the devil, my cell phone buzzes next to me and there's a text from him.

Uncle Tor: I just wanted to check on you.

Me: I'm great. Just invited five guys over for an orgy.

Uncle Tor: Not funny.

Me: I'm okay, just hanging out with Snuggles :-)

Uncle Tor: Ah. Give her a little kiss for me.

Me: LOL I will. Are you still on your date?

Uncle Tor: Yes. Playing pool.

Me: Did she approve of your soft, clean hands? ;-)

Uncle Tor: Barely. She's mad about me ripping my knuckles on that guy’s face.

Me: Geez. Isn't she turned on by you beating up bad guys? That's how it works in all of Gram’s books.

Uncle Tor: Apparently not.

Me: Sucks to be you ;-)

Uncle Tor: Thanks. Ok. I’m going now.

Me: LOL goodnight.

Uncle Tor: night Angel.

6

Tor

Kenzi ~ age seven

Toren ~ age twenty-two

I let go of her hand for one second to pay the guy in the ice cream truck, and when I turn around she's gone. I stare around wildly, trying to find her in the crowded park. She was right next to me a second ago.

"Kenzi!"

My heart pounds faster and my chest tightens when she doesn't come to me. She's nowhere. She's gone.

I run to the other side of the truck, but she's not there.

"Kenzi!!" The wind whips my hair into my face and when I shake it back, there she is, standing innocently right in front of me.

"Where were you? You can't do that, Kenzi. You have to stay by me."

She takes the ice cream cone from me and gives it a lick. "I just went over there for a second. There was a man with a cat on a leash."

"I don't care if it was a monkey driving a car. You don't run away from me. Ever. Okay?"

She puts her hand on her hip and rolls her eyes. "Monkey's can't drive, Uncle Tor."

The way she's staring up at me, I swear she can see right into my soul and it rattles the hell out of me.

"You look like you need to sit for a minute and handle your shit," she finally says matter-of-factly.

Fuck. She's been hanging around all of us for way too long. She has the vocabulary of a twenty year old.

"Don't say ‘shit’, Kenzi. And I'm fine. You just scared me. I thought I lost you."

"You can't ever lose me, Uncle Tor. You're my favorite person in the whole world."

I've never been anyone's favorite anything.

Tor

"What are you doing there, handsome?" Lisa sidles up to me, pool stick in her hand, and glances down at the cell phone in my hand.

"Texting my niece."

"The rock star’s kid?"

"Yup."

"She's cute."

Nodding, I shove my phone back in my pocket. "Yeah, she is."

She leans closer to me, her breasts pressing against my arm. "You want to head out of here?" Her voice is low, riddled with unspoken, but undeniably clear offers.

I search the crowded bar for her friend, whose name I can't remember, and find her making out with some guy in a dark booth near the back of the bar.

"What about your friend?"

She glances over in their direction. "Something tells me she'll be busy for a while. She'll be alright. I'd rather you drive me home."

I put our sticks back on the rack, mulling it over in my mind. The loud music and people yelling to be heard are starting to make my head throb. "Yeah. Let's go."

After paying our tab, I lead her out to my truck, my hand on the small of her back, and she beams at me when I open the passenger door for her.

"I'm glad you came tonight," she says when I get behind the wheel. "I know I've been a little...harsh on you."

"I wouldn't say harsh, Lisa. You're just speaking your mind. Nothing wrong with that."

She lets out a laugh. "I'm kinda known for doing that a little too much."

I throw her a grin. "Trust me, you could be a lot worse."

She tucks her long black hair behind her ear and smiles across the truck at me. "I'll try not to be worse."

"Just be yourself. That's all any of us should be."

I hate when women try to change to be what they think a guy wants. Eventually, they slip and the real them will come crashing through, and it's usually not as good as the person they were pretending to be. I have no time or tolerance for fake people or trying to figure out who they really are.

We talk casually on the drive across town and then sit in silence for a few awkward moments when I pull into her driveway. I'm not good at starting or ending dates. At all.

"I'll walk you to the door," I finally say, and jump out to open her door for her.

"You really have the best manners, Toren," she remarks as she steps out of the truck and takes my arm held out to her. "Opening doors seems to be a lost art."

"My father taught us how to treat a woman right."

"Well, it shows. I can't remember the last time a man opened a door for me."

"That's pretty sad."

"You have no idea," she agrees.

At her door, she looks up at me expectedly and lays her hand on my shoulder, her finger moving back and forth at the edge of my collar.

"You want to come inside? Have a glass of wine? Or a beer?"

I waver between wanting to fuck out my frustration and wanting to not be that kind of guy anymore. She's been giving me the green light all night so there's no question she wants me. One touch, and I'm pretty sure I can have her melting right through this door and dragging me to her bedroom. And it's tempting, especially after six months and counting of no sex.

"Hmm?" She coaxes, running her hand up to the back of my neck and pulling my lips down to hers.

I let her press my lips to hers for a moment and then slowly pull away. "Not tonight."

Disappointment curves her mouth into a frown and her cheeks redden. She's embarrassed, being turned down, and I feel bad for her.

She takes a deep breath to recover. "Tor, we've dated a bunch of times, and I really like you."