“Yeah. Jo was the best. Giving you that conscience and everything. Making you have morals. Fancy that.”
Dad scolds, “Your mother told me that you two were… an item.”
My brows lift. “Is that disapproval I hear, Dad?”
His mouth curls at the corners. It’s definitely not an approving look. “Is that wise, Zach? These are your prime hunting years, son. You don’t want to hurt Denver.”
See, that’d be nice if he cared more about me being hurt than Zach not being able to sow his wild oats.
“You think he’ll be cheating on me soon, then, hmm?” I settle my hand on his shoulder so I can toy with some of his hair. The intimate gesture does not escape my dad’s attention.
“I didn’t say that.” His scowl makes an appearance. “You’re in an argumentative mood today.”
“Maybe it’s because Zach and I had sex a half hour ago, but I’m not feeling particularly argumentative, Dad. You’re just being obtuse.”
Zach turns bright red before he chuckles, and as for Dad, he just growls, “DENVER!”
I shrug. “I have to face the consequences of your sexual escapades. Here are mine.”
“This rudeness is?—”
“Me.”
“We talked about this.”
“Did we?”
“Yes. We said that that’s probably why you didn’t become a Pi! Some things you just don’t speak out loud, and if you’re going to make it as a sports agent?—”
As he babbles on, I tilt my head back and find an inordinate amount of comfort in the hand that Zach settles on my thigh.
It’s not as if he hasn’t always had my back, but seeing him show up for me, time and time again, is empowering.
Especially in the face of a man wholikes to put me down to remind me that I need to be such and such if I’m going to be worthy of inheriting the agency I’m not even sure I want.
“Why did you call, Rod?” Zach asks a few minutes into the tirade. “I’m sure there was a purpose.”
That he butts in has me hiding a smile. One that’s relieved and amused.
Partiallybecause no one butts in when Dad talks.
Mostlybecause if I’m forced to listen to another diatribe on how I need to up my ‘charm’ skills because the best agents are smoother than freshly churned butter, I’ll scream.
“Oh. Yes.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to talk to you about this insistence you have on not playing with Derek Dyers. Especially when you’re accusing him of crimes he didn’t commit.”
“I’ve seen him be aggressive to more than one woman. I know he’s a junkie. He’s definitely a bully, and he’s repeatedly insulted Denver. Whether he has RAPIST tattooed on his forehead or not, I know he’s a piece of shit and I refuse to play with him. The whole team backs me on this.”
“His family’s quick to sue,” Dad warns. “If you keep this up then?—”
“Thensomeonewill have their day in court. I have my suspicions about who he hurt and I’ll convince them to talk about what they went through.” He tips up his chin, and his defense of this unknown woman has need flushing through me.
Dad chides, “You’re making things unnecessarily complicated.”
“I’m sorry I have morals, Rod.”
“It’s funny that you called my phone when you wanted to talk to Zach, Dad.”
“I knew you’d pick up. You need to stop that, by the way, Zach. You always answer your agent’s calls. Money might be on the line.”
