Page 2 of Rowdy Boy
I reach over and trace one finger along the knot of her string bikini resting against her hip. “You coulda fooled me in that changing room,baby.”
“Jake! Don’t call me that,” she scolds as she storms off toward the stack of inner tubes. “If you don’t want to be my boyfriend, fine. Your loss. But you don’t get to call me baby.”
Shit. That escalated quickly.
She was begging to suck my dick twenty minutes ago. How are we having a fight about our non-relationship? Whatever. I grab an inner tube and mentally scramble to defuse the situation.
“I’ve always been honest with you, Court. I don’t do relationships,” I remind her quietly. “Besides,” I add playfully, walking into the zero-depth entrance of the river as Tori and Rhett pass on their double tube. “I call all my female friends baby.” I smirk, then push off the bottom of the lazy river and let the current pull me in.
I yell after my friends as I glide through the water. “Yo! Bro! Baby! Wait up!”
Rhett whips his head in my direction and scowls. Tori bites down on her bottom lip and holds back a laugh. Between Courtney’s disgust and Rhett’s outrage, their fates are sealed. As long as Tori doesn’t mind, she’s officially earned herself a new nickname. I don’t even bother glancing back to see Courtney’s reaction.
Chapter 2
Ileanacrossthecenter console to hug Courtney goodbye before hopping out of her cherry-red Miata. I held back from teasing her on the way home because as much as she was a pain in the ass today, I know I’ll end up seeing her again soon.
I’m not stuck on her or anything… I’d be fine without her hanging around. But the girl’s relentless, and who am I to say no to good head? I just wish I could figure out what makes her tick and why she won’t let me even the score. I don’t need to fuck her, and I would never pressure her into something she doesn’t want to do. But it would be nice if she was consistently into this, whatever this is.
I quietly slide open the door off one of the screened-in porches and slip into the mudroom. Our house is a historical home, so there are servant stairs back here that lead, conveniently, straight to my room. The house is quiet, so I pause for a minute to fish my wet shorts and damp towel from my bag, taking care to hang them up so they can dry. That extra minute costs me.
“Jacob.”
My spine stiffens out of habit, my body steeling itself for the blow. My abs clench and act like a shield. It was always the torso—my stomach or my back.
Although he hasn’t physically hit me in over a year, I can’t help the visceral reaction triggered by just the sound of his voice. Joe Whitely doesn’t use his fists on his greatest disappointment anymore. He found a stronger weapon to wield. Now he just pounds on me with his words.
“You come when I call you, sonny.”
I kick off my flip-flops and shuffle one bare foot in front of the other. If I overthink it, I’ll run. And if I run…
I inhale and square my shoulders when I come to stand in front of him in the kitchen. He’s leaning back against the sink, nursing a late afternoon vodka on the rocks, dressed in a shirt, tie, and jacket, even though it’s Saturday.
“Hey, Dad,” I choke out.
I glance at my little brother Joey. He’s sitting at the breakfast bar shoveling cereal into his mouth, his eyes fixed on his phone. The asshat doesn’t even look up to acknowledge me. I’m not close with either of my brothers. Julian is the favorite: the crown prince of Whitely Enterprises. Joey is the baby, the star football player who’s already being scouted, even as an incoming sophomore.
And then there’s me.
My dad assesses me, picking me apart from head to toe as I stand stock-still in front of him.
“Where were you?”
“I was at a water park over in Cascade Falls.”
“And who were you with?”
The first question was just the icebreaker. This is what Joe really wants to know. I’m already in a mood from Courtney’s shitty attitude, so I’m tempted to play coy. But something in my gut says not to push back right now, so I give him the answer he wants to hear. Today, it actually happens to be the truth.
“I was with Rhett, Tori, and Courtney Sinclair.”
The beginning of a knowing smirk plays on his face before he schools his expression. “Is that right?”
The question isn’t directed at me. My dad doesn’t trust me to tell the truth, even though the truth is all I’ve ever tried to share. His question is aimed at my brother.
Joey looks up and glares at me, as if it’s my fault that our sperm donor is forcing him to engage when he’d rather be playing on his phone.
“Yes, sir. I saw Courtney pick him up around lunchtime, and she was the one who dropped him off just now. She also posted pictures of the two of them together at WaterWorks this afternoon.”