Teaser Tuesday: #Fade

My awesome editor is on vacation, and I've finished this round of edits for Fade, so I've taken a few days off, and have been sucked into Pretty Little Liars*. As much as I'm enjoying the show, I figured it was time to step away from the television before I reverted to a teenage girl. So, it's time for Teaser Tuesday!

Since I've been editing the novel and not doing much in the way of writing, this week's teaser comes from Fade. Enjoy, everyone! And have a safe and happy 4th, my American loves!

I lifted my head to find Dad staring at me.

"Please, don't," I begged when he opened his mouth. "I don't want to know."

He narrowed his eyes and blew out a breath between his teeth, and then he nodded.

"Thanks," I said, relief running through me.

"Sure," he muttered and turned back to the food.

I hopped up to gather plates and utensils, feeling incredibly grateful that I had him. He didn't push and didn't interfere. He accepted. "Need tea?" I asked.

"Juice," he said and started whistling. The tune sounded less cheerful than usual.

I filled two glasses with apple juice then deposited them on the table before going back for the plates and forks. We worked in silence as I set the table and he finished the stir-fry.

"That was Dace on the phone, wasn't it?" I sighed, defeated, fiddling with the placement of my silverware.

Dad stopped stirring and nodded.

Of course it was Dace. "I suppose you have a message for me?"

"No," he said, his expression wary. "He was calling to check on you. He said he'd been calling . . . ." He trailed off with a shrug, not even mentioning how many times Dace had called the house since I'd returned yesterday.

Nineteen, including that one. He'd called my cell almost as many and hadn't left a single message. That hurt more than it should.

I dropped back down into my seat, scowling down at my glass.

"Did you two have a fight or something?" Dad asked, his voice steady, disinterested almost.

"Something like that," I mumbled, not sure how to classify what'd happened. Dace had simply left. No argument. No explanation. Nothing.

"Ah." Dad deposited the wok on the table.

I dished out a heaping helping for him and not so much for myself.

Dad frowned at the little bit on my plate, but didn't comment.

"Um . . . ." He cleared his throat as he picked up his fork. "He asked if he could stop by to talk to me this evening. I told him yes."

"What?" My head shot up.

Dad held up his hands. "I didn't know you were angry with him."

Great. Just great. I glowered, viciously stabbing a piece of chicken with my fork.

"I'll call and tell him not—"

"It's fine," I interrupted sharply. Too sharply. "Sorry," I said as his fork wavered near his mouth.

He quirked a brow.

"Really, it's fine." I told him, more calmly than before. "I have some reading to do anyway." We both knew that was a lie.

"If you're sure," he said, still hesitant.

"I'm sure," I lied, feeling anything but. That was my problem though, not his. Besides which, the house was big enough for both me and Dace for one evening. I would simply hide out until he was gone. No problem.

D'oh! Things are not all gravy for our wayward TA and his annoyed soul-mate at the moment. Looks like there's gonna be twouble, twouble. (Name that movie quote!)

Happy Fourth!

A.K.M.

*Dear, Keeper of the Cheerios: Yes, I cheated to find out who A is.