Almost.
Seeing Mack all pissy and irritated as fuck was entirely worth it, though I fear I’ll reap my punishment come Monday for sure.
Jordan Mackenzie loves to be in control. Whether he realizes it or not, he thrives on it. And there’s nothing I love more than throwing him off balance. He’s so fucking hot when he’s pissed off. Which is why I’ll gladly take an extra set of exercises, even if it hurts, just so I can see that glimmer in his eyes. Just so I can feel him in my space, even if it lasts a few seconds.
I’m a goddamn addict for this man, and I can’t fucking help it.
My dad comes bursting through my room, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Get up,” he says gruffly.
“Go without me,” I groan as I pull the covers up. My dad shoves me so hard that I shift position.
“Unacceptable. You know the rules, Alex.”
I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to follow them.
“Golf is not a rule. It’s a luxury,” I bite out. “Besides, Austen isn’t even here.”
Because, of course, my baby brother would be in New York with his wife right now.
Austen can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s the favorite because he’s got that white picket fence bullshit going for him.
But he’s not happy. I can see it. He hasn’t been happy a day in his marriage, but he puts on a good show for everyone. I’m not sure what would make the guy happy, but his life isn’t my concern. He’s a big boy. He can figure it out on his own.
“Can’t we just go to the club later?” I huff in annoyance.
“No.” My dad’s voice is harsh. Stern.
I don’t need a therapist to tell me this is the root of my problem. I turned my traumas into kinks.
But it still unnerves me sometimes. Being aware of your bullshit sucks.
“Fine,” I say as I get up, wincing from the pain.
Maybe if I take half a pill it’ll make the pain go away and make me numb enough to deal with my dad.
“I expect you to be dressed and ready in fifteen minutes.”
He leaves me sitting on my bed, running my hand over my face. “Fuck.”
I grab for the bottle of pills, holding them in my hand as I stare at them. Taking a pill just to deal with my family doesn’t seem like a good idea, and if I take one, I can’t drink and Bobby, the bartender, makes the best Dirty Shirley there is.
So I shove the bottle away and grab an ibuprofen instead. I take three, even though the bottle says I should only take two, and hobble over to my shower.
When I get out, I strap my brace on, wincing as I tighten it. My phone lights up on my nightstand, and I grab it to check the notification.
KI had a great time last night with you and your friends. We should hang out again sometime!
I stare at Kearstin's text, twisting my lips. I didn’t hate hanging out with her, and it was nice to be around a woman who wasn’t put off by my sexuality or my personality.
The ride home wasn’t as awkward as the drive there, nor was dropping her off, but it didn’t feel like a date.
Not in the way it should have. I didn’t even kiss her goodnight.
I just… didn’t feel it. She didn’t lean or wait, either, and she didn’t make any move to kiss me, which was a relief.
This isn’t normal for me. I’ve kissed plenty of people because I knew they expected it, not because I wanted to. Because I always know how to be who I’msupposedto be.
