We were almost back to the house and I was almost over my disappointment before I remembered something that had happened with Dad. I turned to Chase.
"What was Dad talking about when he said you promised him you'd take care of me? When did you guys talk?" I asked.
Chase didn't take his eyes off the road, but his jaw tightened. "I talked to him before you and I went to the dance," he said quietly.
I waited, but he didn't say more. I frowned. "It sounded like it was about more than the dance?"
Chase rolled one shoulder, but nodded. "We had a talk. Man to man."
I snorted. "You're eighteen. I promise you my father wasn't talking to you as a man." Dad was many things, but he'd always been very dismissive of my boyfriends, reminding me all the time how young and immature they were. Which, I supposed, was meant to remind me how young and immature I was.
