Page 14 of Rough Daddy (REAL DADDIES: Boone Brothers #5)

Twelve

Tessa

T he sound of Beau making coffee pulls me from sleep.

I'm lying in his bed, wearing nothing but his Snap-On t-shirt, staring at the wooden ceiling beams while guilt eats me alive from the inside out.

Yesterday was perfect. Too perfect. For the whole day, I forgot about everything except the way this man worships my body, the way he makes me feel cherished and protected and owned.

My phone sits on the nightstand where I left it last night, and I can see the screen lighting up with notifications. Messages I've been ignoring while I played house with a man who doesn't even know my real name.

I reach for the phone with shaking hands.

The first message stops my heart.

Ethan : Where are you? I needed you and you just disappeared.

The hurt in those words cuts deeper than any knife.

Ethan : You promised we'd stick together. You PROMISED. I kept calling, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Are you ever coming back?

I scroll through his messages with tears streaming down my face, watching days of my brother's pain unfold while I was lost in my perfect bubble of happiness.

Ethan : I thought you cared about me.

Ethan : Dad's drinking more. I thought he was going to hit me last night. Mom's worse. I have nobody.

Ethan : You said you'd always be there for me. But you left. Where did you even go?

Ethan : I guess I know where I stand now.

The phone slips from my hands, clattering against the wooden nightstand. I press my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they keep coming.

He's just a kid, and I'm all he has. I promised him I would always be there for him. That no matter what happened to our family, we'd stick together.

And the first chance I got to be happy, I ran away and left him behind.

"Morning, princess."

Beau appears in the doorway carrying two mugs of coffee, and the sight of him makes my chest ache. Hair mussed from sleep, bare chest, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans. His dark beard is flecked with silver, and there’s nothing but love in those pale-blue eyes.

He's beautiful and protective and everything I've ever wanted.

And I'm about to lose him.

"You okay?" His eyes search my face, taking in my tears and the phone in my lap. "What the fuck’s wrong? Did I hurt you last night?"

"No. Just..." I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "Family stuff."

He sets the coffee on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. "Talk to me. You tell Daddy everything, no matter what."

The endearment makes something twist painfully in my chest. I want to tell him everything.

I want to fall into his arms and let him fix it all. But I can't. Not when Ethan is suffering because of my selfishness.

"I need to use your computer," I say instead, my voice cracking as I wipe away tears. "I need to figure some things out with... work stuff."

"Of course, baby. Password is ENGINE2024, all caps."

I slip out of bed, pulling his t-shirt down to cover myself, and pad barefoot to his office. My hands are shaking as I wake up his computer, trying to figure out how to book a flight back to New York. How to fix the mess I've made of everything.

But there's a folder on his desktop labeled "Research T" that makes my stomach clench.

I shouldn't click it. I should respect his privacy.

But something inside me ticks.

Maybe it's the way he never asks questions about my past. The way he accepts everything I tell him without pushing for details. The way he seemed completely unsurprised when that photographer approached me in town.

I open the folder.

Photos. Hundreds of them. Screenshots from my Instagram, my old YouTube videos, images from news articles about my scandal. All organized by date, going back months. Before I ever crashed into his car wash.

My hands shake as I open his browser and check the history.

tessa quinn videos, tessa quinn instagram, tessa quinn scandal details, tessa quinn onlyfans controversy, tessa quinn family background, tessa quinn tessa quinn tessa quinn

There’s even some from this morning, while I was sleeping, my body filled with the sticky release he seemed so intent on keeping inside me.

He's been researching me. Studying me. Learning every detail of my life while I thought I was sharing myself with him for the first time.

"Tina, this isn’t what you think..."

I spin around. Beau fills the doorway, still shirtless, hands in his pockets. His expression is unreadable.

"Tina? Really? You knew." I shake my head, swallowing the stupidity lodged in my throat. "You've known this entire time."

He doesn't deny it. He just stands there, watching me with those summer-sky eyes that have seen every part of my soul.

"Tina—"

"Stop calling me that. You know that’s not my name." I cough on a fake laugh, and it sounds broken even to my own ears. "You know my real name, my real story, my real life. Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I was protecting you." His answer sounds sincere. "You came to me broken, running from that life. I gave you space to heal."

"Space to heal?" I'm on my feet now, backing toward the window. "Or space to play out your fantasies? What's it like having your very own broken influencer to fix?"

"I never lied to you." He closes in. "Not once. I waited. I watched you become yourself again instead of that shell of a girl who crashed into my life."

"But you let me lie to you! You let me think I was sharing myself with you when you already knew everything ." The betrayal cuts deep, but it's nothing compared to the guilt eating me alive. "And while I was here playing house with my stalker, my brother was suffering. Alone."

"Your brother?" Something shifts in his expression.

"He needed me and I wasn't there, because I was too busy falling in love with a man who's been obsessed with me for.

.. How long? Months? Years? This whole Daddy thing…

" I swipe at the tears streaming down my face.

"You want to know the truth about me, Beau?

I'm selfish. I'm a terrible sister. I abandoned the one person who actually needs me for this.” I wave my hands around, not really pointing at anything but indicating everything. “For some fantasy."

"You didn't abandon him. You saved yourself."

"It's the same thing!" I slap the sides of my head with my hands. "He's just a kid and he's trapped in that house with our toxic parents. Do you know what it’s like in there? My mom’s illness that she refuses to treat properly because having it makes our family more sympathetic, my dad’s constant teetering on the verge of lashing out and hurting one of us? I’m scared one of these days he’ll break bones instead of breaking possessions.

I promised Ethan I'd always be there. But the first chance I got to be happy, I ran away. "

For a moment, he just stares at me. Then he steps forward, and I see something in his eyes I've never seen before.

Insecurity.

"It’s true I fell in love with you months before we met," he says.

"But it wasn’t your image, or your scandal, or your brand.

I fell in love with you . The woman who cried over rescue animals in your videos.

Who talked about feeling lost and wanting to find herself.

Who was brave enough to walk away from everything to protect herself. "

"Stop." I press my hands to my ears. "Just stop."

"You think this is about obsession? About having some fantasy girl to play with?" He takes another step closer. "When you crashed into my car wash, broken and running and using a fake name, I knew you needed time to remember who you were without all the noise."

"Well, now I remember." I move toward the door, toward escape. "I'm the girl who abandons her family when they need her most."

"You're the girl who had the strength to save herself." His voice turns gentle, pleading. "And now we'll save him, too."

I stop, hand on the doorframe. "What? We?"

"Your brother. We'll bring him here. It will be the three of us."

For a moment, I let myself imagine it. Ethan safe in this mountain sanctuary. The three of us becoming a family.

But then reality crashes back in.

"I..." My voice breaks. "I need to think. This is all too much."

"Of course it is." His expression softens, and he cups my face in those massive rough palms. "Go pack one of your little suitcases. We'll figure this out together, princess. All of it."

I nod, grateful for something concrete to do. Something to focus on while my world tilts on its axis.

"Take your time," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'll book us somewhere to stay tonight, then we’ll head back tomorrow morning. You okay?”

I push one of my practiced smiles onto my face, adding a nod. I’m playing for the camera again, only the camera this time is Beau’s eyes. "Yep. Okay."

But as I walk toward the guest cabin, my hands shake and my breath comes in short gasps. Pack a bag. Such a simple instruction. But my mind is spinning.

Who am I supposed to pack for? Tina Quincy, the woman who fell in love with a stranger? Or Tessa Quinn, the disgraced influencer whose whole life is a performance?

I push open the cabin door and stare at my Louis Vuitton luggage scattered across the floor. Expensive clothes my parents bought for photo shoots, others the designers sent for product placement. Shoes that cost more than most people's rent. The costume of a life I've been running from.

But then there's the t-shirt I'm wearing. Beau’s t-shirt.

The way I felt in his garage, talking about engines and being valued for something real between my ears instead of the character I play.

The woman who danced with him in the town square, who felt like she belonged somewhere for the first time in her life.

Which one is real?

My breathing gets faster, shallower. The walls of the cabin seem to be closing in.

Every moment I thought I was being authentic, being myself for the first time, he already knew exactly who Tessa Quinn was. Her scandals, her family, her breakdown. Did he fall in love with me or with the broken girl he could fix? Did he fall in love at all, or was it all an act to manipulate me?

And Ethan. God, Ethan. While I was playing Tina, he was suffering.

I can't breathe. The cabin is spinning. Nothing feels real anymore.

I need to get out. I need air. I need to get to the one person who's never known me as anyone but myself. Who's loved me without filters or performance or pretense.

I grab a piece of paper from the desk and write.

Beau,

I don't know who I am anymore. Tina? Tessa? Some made-up person caught between the two? Everything feels like a lie. You knew who I was, I lied to you, this whole perfect fantasy we've been living was a house of cards.

I need to get back to the one real thing in my life. Ethan needs me, and honestly, I think I need him more. He's the only person who's known me without any masks, without any persona. Just me.

I'm sorry. I’m going, but I need to go alone.

T

I fold the note, scrawl Beau’s name on the front, and try to steady my breathing.

I grab the denim skirt from the first night we were together from the arm of the sofa where Beau set it after washing my clothes.

I tug it on, slipping on a pair of Gucci slides that are next to the door, and head outside. I’m ready to walk into town. There must be a bus. Or a car I can hire. Something.

Then I remember him putting the keys above the sun visor in his truck every time he got out.

Will he have me arrested for grand theft?

Don’t care. Ethan comes first.

He always will.