Page 15 of Rowdy Boy

I curl up from the chair and rise to my feet, ignoring the boner that hasn’t caught up to my new plan. I reach for my shirt and pull it back on before scooping up her booty shorts and T-shirt.

She gawks when I hand her the items. Without giving her time to object, I pull her in to a one-armed hug, smoothing my other hand over her hair. “Can you stay awhile longer? We can watch a movie and cuddle.”

She nods against my chest. “I don’t have practice until eleven tomorrow. I’ll stay.”

I pull back and smile. “Good. All the movies are in there,” I explain, pointing to the closet across the room. “Get yourself sorted and pick something out for us to watch. I’ll go make popcorn.”

I head for the stairs before pausing and looking back over my shoulder. “You can pick the movie, but I was serious about my preferences. I’m in the mood for some Leonardo DiCaprio tonight. Don’t disappoint me, baby.”

With a little spring in my step, I take the stairs two at a time. I walk into the kitchen and head for the pantry but falter when I spot a figure lurking by the sink.

“Jacob.”

Fuck my life. I completely forgot he was coming home today.

His physical presence pisses me off, but I’m more upset with myself for letting my guard down.

“Aren’t you going to greet your father?”

My bare feet squeak against the polished hardwood floor as I turn ninety degrees and square my shoulders.

“Hi, Dad,” I supply coolly.

He’s leaning back on the quartz countertop like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Why the hell is he lurking around the empty kitchen anyway? It’s fucking creepy.

“I noticed a car in the driveway when I got home.”

Fear claws at my chest. I have to intentionally stop my racing thoughts and school my expression. He knows her car. He knows who’s here. There’s no reason I should be reacting like this.

“Glad to see you took my advice about the Sinclair girl.”

I close my eyes and hold back a sigh. Is this asshole really going to make me stand here while he essentially has a conversation with himself? And why am I suddenly not so keen on Courtney hanging around to watch a movie? Oh. That’s right. Because my asshole of a father thinks he’s the mastermind behind this evening.

Manipulative bastard.

His eyes shift up and down, assessing me, judging like always. I instinctively follow his gaze, only then realizing my shorts are sporting a decent-size wet spot from Courtney’s climax.

“Looks like you’ve been having lots of fun down there.”

My hackles raise instantly. I have to clench my fists at my sides to refrain from reacting. Remorse surges—along with something akin to protectiveness—knowing that my dad is staring at the evidence of her pleasure.

He smirks, and I swear steam billows out of my ears like I’m a goddamn cartoon character.

“By all means, sonny. Don’t keep the lady waiting. Carry on.”

And just like that—with a flourish of his arm like he’s granting me permission to exist in this world—Joe strides out of the room.

I stand there panting, trying to let the rage I feel run its course before I go back downstairs. Lately, holding it in hurts worse than lashing out. It almost doesn’t matter what he said—what he implied—what he saw. Literally anything could have come out of his mouth and I’d still be reeling.

I force myself to move. I throw the popcorn in the microwave and give myself those ninety-five seconds to get my shit together. When the timer beeps, I’m done. I open up the piping hot bag, pour it into a big bowl, and plaster a smile on my face before I head back to the basement.

Chapter 7

Tori:Rhettgotheldup at a cross country thing. Any chance you could give me a ride to work?

Jake: What time are you on?

Tori: 11 - 5