Windows line the back, and the illuminated pool in the backyard is like the neon lights in Vegas contrasted around pitch darkness. My dad bought this property when I was probably three, and made Cleveland his permanent residence to be close to me. He built the house facing Lake Erie for privacy, which he seldom receives. Plopping down on the couch, I sprawl out with my feet on the coffee table.

“You want anything, sweetheart?” my dad calls out from the kitchen, and ice cubes clink in the glass as he pours himself another drink.

“No, I’m good.” After the two beers at Aces, I’m not chancing myself to drive.

My dad eyes me as he saunters into the room, fixating on me the entire way to the couch. “You can stay in your old room if you want.”

I appreciate the offer, I do, but this sadistic side of me has to make sure my words hurt Rob tonight. As sad as it is, I have to know if anyone joins him in his bed. I’m pathetic. “Thanks, Dad.” He clicks off the television and leans back on the couch, stretching his legs out on the coffee table just like me.

“You’re mighty polite tonight. What’s up?” He brings the glass to his lips and I stare down at my hands in my lap.

“What made you build the home in Cleveland all those years ago?” I ask, fidgeting with my fingers.

“You, of course. You know that.” If anything, my dad has been too honest with me most of my life. Although his truthfulness on how much he loves me is great, his honestly about the drugs he’s taken and girls waiting in lines outside his room, isn’t.

Pushing my luck a little, I ask the question my mom’s probably asked herself for years. “Why not, Mom?” He glances at me from the corner of his eye. “How come she wasn’t enough?” I bite my lip and he sips his whiskey, debating his answer, I’m sure.

“Paige. It’s not that she wasn’t enough.” He purses his lips together and unhooks his ankles and then crosses them again. He’s clearly uncomfortable with my questions and I know why. My mom was a fast one-night screw that ended up with a whoops at the end. “You want the truth, don’t you?” He places his drink down, leans his forearms on his knees and twists his head my way.

I nod and he mimics it in a slow motion. “Paige, you know the reputation I’ve earned. The papers don’t lie; I am who they label me. I met your mom one night and obviously we . . . conceived you.”

“You make it sound so innocent.” I laugh and he smiles.

“Well, the truth is, your mom was a groupie. She followed the band that summer. She saw who I was and what I was about.” He runs his hands down his hair, securing his long curly hair into a ponytail again. “When she contacted me months later to tell me about you, I believed it was a hoax. You know, something to get more attention.”

“Your worst nightmare came true, huh?” I giggle, but he looks at me straight faced.

“Paige, you’re the best thing that happened to me.” He’s lying, but I’ll play along, so I remain silent. “I’m serious. After the paternity test, I tried to make it work with your mom, but we both knew I was incapable of change. I left so she could have a future and find someone who would love her for her.” He makes it all sound so nice and grateful, when I’m the one who witnessed my mom throwing herself at my dad time and time again when she dropped me off or picked me up on his time. The short skirts and revealing tops she stuffed herself into to grab his attention. The pawing, the meals to entice him to stay, all so when he left, she’d crumble and fall into a depression for days.

“Do you think you’ll ever find someone who’s worth giving up other girls for?” He cocks his eyebrow at me. We both know he’s not the prince charming on a white horse sort of guy. He’s more, I’ll screw you senseless and we’ll party until we pass out, or I kick you out.

“What’s up, Paige? You’re beating around the bush pretty hard here. Is this about a guy?” His shoulders relax a little, and he sinks into the couch more.

“No, I’m just wondering. I mean, did you have some sort of horrible past and you use sex to feel loved?” I grasp at straws, and a loud billowing laugh escapes out of him.

“Nope. Raised in the suburbs with Grandma and Grandpa. Just love women. That’s it.” He’s so easy, I wish he were capable of a settled down life. Rarely spending time with him when I was younger unless he wasn’t on tour, brought an ache for me to have him in my life. Not to mention caring for a mom who could barely get out of bed. “If anything, you should be the one skipping through beds. Daddy issues and all.”

I shake my head and scoff. “Isn’t that the truth? My life wasn’t exactly like Full House.”

“But Paige, whatever’s going on in that woman brain of yours, trust your instincts. They are usually right. You’re a bright girl and you’ll make a good decision.” He smiles. “Who knows, maybe I haven’t found my one and only.”

“The problem I have, maybe not everyone wants to find them,” I say, patting his leg as I stand up to stare out the window.

“Paige, spend the night. I’ve never seen you so conflicted. Tell your old man what’s going on.” He stands up and his reflection through the glass shows him stalking toward me.

Turning around, his eyebrows drawing together show how concerned I’m making him. “There’s just this guy, my roommate.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

I laugh. “Yep and that’s why we’re going to stop there and I’m going to leave.” I begin roaming back to the door. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“You never interrupt me, baby. I’m going back on tour in a few weeks. Come by and have dinner before.” I rotate around when I reach the big wooden doors, and he’s smiling down at me.

“Sure.”

“You have enough money?” His eyes look me up and down. “You need new clothes? Anything, just ask. You know that.” He assures me, but I hate asking for so much from him. I know he can afford it, but he pays my tuition, my car, my rent, practically my mom’s rent with the extra. My dad has never once lied to me. As hurtful as the truth was to hear, he never skirted around a rumor or anything in his life. I’m not about to deceive him and take more money from him to put in the hands of my mother, that would be dishonest. I already have guilt for giving her part of my monthly allowance.

“I know, Dad. Thanks.” I smile and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. Inhaling his scent one more time, I back away and open the door.

“I love you, kid.” He places his pointer finger under my chin and brings it up. “Since the day you were born.” He winks and a small smile begins to form across my lips.

“I love you, too.” I step out of my dad’s house more confused than when I walked in. He’s living proof that stereotypes are gray. No one would believe that Greg Thompson, lead guitarist of The Raptures, was sweet and kind. He’s known for the fights he gets into, trashing hotel rooms, and sleeping with every groupie that lines up outside his door. But with his out-of-wedlock daughter, he’s gentle, caring, and loves with his whole heart.

Pulling out of his driveway, I’m alarmed when another car’s headlights shine in my view. When I stop, wanting to check if it’s Hank or Len, his band mates, I spot a bleach-blonde not much older than myself circling through. She catches me and slams on her brakes, shooting me a death stare before speeding up the paved path.

Some things will never change.

Driving the hour back to campus, flickers of Rob’s multiple personalities flash in my brain. He’s so nice and attentive sometimes. Then one word or movement and it’s like I’m back to square one with him. I’m not sure I want the drama in my life, but for some reason he lures me to him. As though he’s weaving a web around me and I can’t free myself from his grip. Worse is that I’m not sure I want to.