Page 17 of Rowdy Boy
Our boss takes a step back, squares his shoulders, and crosses his scary-big arms across his chest. He glares at me—me—when he replies to Max.
“I do know that. But I assumed this was Jake’s apology for showing up wasted last weekend when hewason the schedule.”
The look he levels me with hits harder than any words could. I’ve disappointed him—clearly—and even though I thought I was discreet last weekend, he obviously knows I wasn’t fit to work.
“Max, why don’t you give us a minute?” His tone makes it clear this isn’t a suggestion. Max wordlessly leaves the bar, shooting me a sympathetic glance as he retreats.
I sit up straight on my stool, mentally shutting down before he can dig into me. Mike walks closer and spreads his hands wide on the bar before leaning forward to get in my space.
“Anything you want to say to me?” he asks calmly.
I inhale through my nose and steel my spine. There’s always a calmness before an attack.
I nod once and maintain eye contact, offering a cut-and-dry answer. “I’m sorry I showed up for work drunk. It won’t happen again, sir.”
Mike keeps staring—searching my face for something he won’t find, because I’ve already locked it all away. I stare blankly ahead of me and will myself to keep it together. I just have to get through this.
“I wasn’t fishing for an apology, son.”
I tense involuntarily at his response, and he sees it. He fucking sees it. Something registers in his expression. He slowly and deliberately reaches across the bar to grasp my shoulder.
“Look,” he peers down at the bar at first, then meets my eyes, “I don’t know the circumstances, but I know therearecircumstances. Wheeler seemed to have you on a short leash last weekend, so I let it slide.” He squeezes my shoulder once, then drops his hand.
“It won’t happen again,” I confirm, staring down at the bar and avoiding his gaze.
“I believe that. But I feel like I need to say something else to you—man to man.”
I look up out of curiosity.
“I’ve lived in this town long enough to know your father’s an asshat. But you’re already eighteen, and you only have one year of school left. He won’t have this hold on you much longer. Just don’t be so reckless you mess things up for yourself before you have a chance to really live.”
I blink once, then again. I’m wound so tight and feeling defensive again, but not because his words are designed to hurt me. Whether he meant to or not, his words soothe me. I have to lock things down to keep from outwardly reacting. Shame and embarrassment ripple through me at the callout—at how fucking obvious I must be for him to know these things about me. My dad’s right—I am soft. I’m so soft I’m see-through.
Mike continues. “Stick around, Jake. Show up on time and show up sober.”
I meet his eyes and nod. I don’t want him to know how deeply his words affect me, but he deserves my attention and respect.
“A little goes a long way after a while. Who knows? Maybe Max will finally graduate from college and move out of his mom’s basement and you’ll be running this place with me someday.”
Chapter 8
“Allright,baby,we’vegot places to be,” I declare as I hold open the door of Clinton’s and usher Tori outside.
Her feet falter, and she slows her pace, giving me a questioning glance. “Where are we going?”
“Uh, well, we don’t actually have a destination. But I took the hard top off during your shift so we could go for a drive. The sun is shining, and there’s air in our lungs. Let’s enjoy being young and feeling alive.”
She beams and picks up the pace as we head toward the Jeep. “I’m in. Let me just tell Rhett where I’ll be…” She slides her phone out of her pocket to send him a text. I don’t bother telling her he already knows.
I busy myself with my own phone as we cross the parking lot, scrolling through the texts Courtney sent me an hour ago. I smirk before shooting back a quick reply to let her know I had fun last night, too. Aside from the run-in with my dad, it was one of the best nights I’ve shared with her in a long time.
I hoist myself into the Jeep without opening the door, then lean over and unlatch the passenger side for Tori. Driving this thing with the top down in the summer gives me an instant shot of serotonin. I flip through my CD case before selecting a summer mix and sticking it in the player. We both buckle our seat belts, then I put my phone down to turn on the car.
As soon as I set it down on the dash, it vibrates. I don’t bother to check it because I assume it’s just Courtney messaging me back. But then it stops for a few seconds and immediately vibrates again.
“Hang on…” I mutter, leaving the car in park and reaching for the device. The pit in my stomach bottoms out when I see his name on the Caller ID.
The seconds melt together as I stare at my phone. The heat of the sun beating down on my skin matches the hostility bubbling up inside.