The next moment, she’s headed off toward the front door. I’m not exactly sure what the fuck this girl intends on doing, but it’s turned into a blizzard already out there in the time it took her to walk back up to the house. “Hey,” I call after her. She’s either not listening, or is ignoring me. Pinching my brow, I hesitate in the kitchen rather than follow after a girl I don’t even know. My son’s fuck buddy? Girlfriend? Jesus Christ. She could be a buckle bunny from his time on the rodeo circuit, for all I know.
