Kylie’s POV
Dean leans against the side of the golf cart as we ride home, his head tilted back with his eyes closed.
He might not be in the best state to answer questions, or he might be in the best state to answer questions…
I know that my foster mother loved to talk when she was drunk.
Her favorite things to talk about were how beautiful her eldest daughter was and how terrible I was.
Pulling to a stop beside our house, Dean sits up, looking around and slipping out of the cart, stumbling a bit as he steadies himself against the hood.
Running his hand through his hair, he gives me an apologetic glance before jogging to the front door and opening it for me.
“Thanks.”
Dean follows me inside.
Rethinking the couch, I decide to take a seat at the small kitchen table, so I won’t get di
