Read Pretending She's His: A Hard Feelings Novella for Free Online

haven’t talked to him in a long time.” Mr. Mitchell, Meagan’s dad, asked as he stepped up to the drink table that acted as the bar.
    Turning his head to look at him, Trevor smiled. “He’s doing better, thank you for asking, sir.”
    “Ah, none of that ‘sir’ shit here, son. Do you see stars on my collar? You call me Don.” He gave Trevor another squeeze on the shoulder then reached down for the bottle of Jack and poured some in his glass.
    Trevor nodded and smiled his acknowledgment. Don and Trevor’s dad went as far back as he and Meagan did. His dad was post commander at Fort Bragg when Meagan’s dad was stationed there. They were good friends.
    “They’re living in Memphis, right?”
    “Yes, sirrrr . . . Don. My mom grew up there.”
    “How is your mother? She holding up?” he asked. His face had gone solemn, his own grief mixed in with the sorrow and sympathy he felt for Trevor’s family.
    “She’s a strong woman—”
    “Yeah, she’d have to be to be with your dad.” He laughed as though a memory was passing through his mind at that very moment, and knowing Trevor’s dad—it probably was a good one.
    Trevor’s smiled extended a little more than it usually did when he thought about his parents, and he was grateful to Don for connecting that happy image in his mind. “She tells me she is doing great, that dad isn’t giving her any more trouble than he did when they first got married—but I know she’s exhausted. He’s in pain most days. Nights are the worst. And that’s what wears my mom down the most. Seeing him suffer night after night and not being able to do a goddamned thing—” He stopped, his words lodged in his chest as the shit he tried to keep buried in the back of his mind started rearing his ugly head.
    His dad was dying. He had terminal cancer; an inoperable tumor in his brain. Some days he wasn’t even his dad. He was just gone, like he’d slipped into another world, another realm of thought that he and his mother couldn’t reach. To watch the man who raised him, the man who taught him how to throw a football, shoot a rifle, and drink a beer; to watch him wither into a man he barely recognized was shredding a piece of him every day.
    Trevor was the exact replica of his father. They had the same square shoulders, the same ashy brown hair; the same steel gray eyes. But his father was so fucking calm. Nothing had ever seemed to stir him or piss him off. He’d let things roll off his shoulders and kept a smile on his face doing it. He wasn’t what you would picture a one-star general to be. He wasn’t this rigid, uptight, by-the-book leader. He was approachable, relatable, and understanding.
    His dad always had a way with the women too, and they’d flocked to him, wherever they were. But his dad only had eyes for his mom. She was his everything.
    How was he supposed to live up to the man his father was? He wasn’t even in the same fucking category. And there wasn’t a whole lot of time to figure it out.
    Trevor cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said, needing to get away from that conversation. He turned, but Don called out his name, stopping him. He spun back around, fighting the burn that was pricking in his eyes.
    “Your dad’s a great man. He was an outstanding commander, but he’s an even better father—and husband. I’m so sorry for you and your family.”
    Nodding, he tightly pressed his lips together until he could feel the pain from his teeth biting into his lips.
    An arm slipped through his and a small hand gave him a gentle squeeze. Meagan. He didn’t know how that woman seemed to know exactly when he needed her—but she did, even if she didn’t realize it.
    He smiled at her, then nodded at Reed and Luke who were behind her. “What you boys talking about?” she asked. There was such joy in her voice, such ease. He not only wanted to protect her from the hurt he knew she would feel bringing up his dad, but he also didn’t want to ruin that