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As always, my wingman holds his hand out. “Mr. Brooks, I’m Aidan. West’s roommate and QB.” He sends a daring glare to the other side of the room. Behind me, I feel my other teammates shift. If this goes wrong, we have the potential for something really bad to happen. Coach would murder us if we fought them before the game on Saturday, but it’s happened in the past when things got too hot.
And right now, I’m boiling.
My father shakes Aidan’s hand but keeps his attention on me. “You still never answered my calls, so I had to take other measures to get your attention. You did see me on TV, didn’t you?”
He’s too close to Kenna—way too close, and it’s got me on edge. My dad wasn’t usually physically violent, but I don’t know this person in front of me. Once upon a time, he just made us small in our own house, but now he’s expanding. He’s like a ticking time bomb, and I don’t want him to take her with him.
Aidan whispers something into Sydney’s ear, and she brightens right up, placing a fake smile on her face. “Kenna, let’s let these guys talk, and we’ll go pick out a song at the jukebox.”
My dad’s gaze finally moves around the table for more than a split second. He ogles Sydney first, who’s currently scooting across the bench to get out of her seat. His stare focuses on a place it shouldn’t.
“There’s some pretty girls here,” his rough voice says, the hint of alcohol on his breath. Or maybe my brain is trying to come up with any excuse to why he would be doing this now. This man couldn’t have cared less about me before…unless it was to yell at me existing. “Maybe that’s why you can’t ever answer my calls.”
Kenna attempts to stand, which draws his attention. He stares her up and down. “You… Are you, uh—” His stare falls on her scar, and he recoils like a jackass. Kenna grips the table so hard her knuckles turn white. He sneers, peering at me. “Is this your…girlfriend? What about this other one here? Her face isn’t fucked up.”
I shoot to my feet, the table groaning as it skids across the checkered floor, nearly pinning Sydney to the bench. My teammates are up and out of their seats in the next second, as are Hamilton’s. Aidan edges in front of my father, but it isn’t to save him.
It’s to save me.
“Leave. I got this,” he grunts.
My nostrils flare. I breathe in deep, my shoulders rising and falling with the effort.
My father chuckles. “She most definitely is your girlfriend, then. I’m sure even you can do better.”
“I got this,” Aidan growls, cutting me off at the knees as my gaze slices to my father. Pleasure simmers in his eyes. Aidan yanks my hand, forcing me out of the booth and into Kenna. He starts instructing the team to stay calm.
I wrap my fingers around Kenna’s wrist and focus on putting one foot in front of the other while I lead her toward the exit.
“Is she getting all your NIL money, then?”
Step…
“You’d think you’d want to share the wealth with someone who raised you,” he yells.
So, this is what this is about?
Step…
“Then again, maybe you can use it to fix her face.”
His laughter sucker punches me, and I stumble.
Kenna grabs onto my wrist with her other hand, and together, we walk outside while Aidan’s voice rings out through the entire diner. I can’t even focus on what he’s saying, but he’s handling it like usual, I’m sure. Charm. Humor. He has everything I don’t.
Right now, all I have is rage.
The snap of the frigid air whips across my face. Light footsteps chase after us, and when I whirl, I spot Sydney coming up behind us. Kenna wiggles out of my grasp just in time for Sydney to throw her arms around her.
Kenna starts crying. Her shoulders heave, and it feels like the more agonizing her sobs become, the angrier I get.
How dare he?
How fucking dare he?
I pace back and forth, talking myself in and out of going back in there to punch his face in.
“Shh,” Sydney quiets her. “The guy’s obviously an asshole, and he only said those things because he wanted West to retaliate.”