“You can invite him,” Dad tells me, cupping my cheek with his palm. “Drake suggested Colt could stay at their place.” “Good.” He chuckles, eyeing me with a smile on his face. “Something is telling me if I want to see you at home, I’ll need to prep a room for your new guy.” “He’s not my guy.” “But I’ll still need to prepare a room,” my father counters with laughter.
