Page 43 of The Fake Out

“Yes.”

He gave me a questioning look, but I shook my head and headed for the showers.

After storming out like I was sixteen years old again, I didn’t want to see my dad tonight. I dreaded going home, but at least we traveled tomorrow, so I had a couple of days to cool off. Might give me time to call my realtor and try to find a different place. Living with my dad again wasn’t gonna work out if we were at each other’s throats. I don’t know why I thought it would be different now that I was older. No wonder Eli tried to talk me out of it.

I got out of the shower, and only a couple of the guys were still milling around. Benny was fixing his hair, and I changed back into my suit. He leveled me with a curious glance. “You okay, man?”

I nodded. “Yeah, just some family shit going on.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

I didn’t question that but looked at my phone and smiled at a text from Veronica.

VERONICA: Are you meeting us at the bar?? I’m here and your brother keeps nagging me about dating you.

ME: He’s jealous. On my way.

Benny scratched his chest. “Your girl does good work.”

I slapped his hand. “Don’t pick at it, or you’ll have to reapply a saniderm.”

He made a sour face. “You’re worse than Rox.”

“Did she come to the game tonight?”

He shook his head and checked his watch. “Nah, she had practice tonight. She’ll meet us. Come on, let’s get going.”

We walked down the hallway toward the player’s parking lot. “Rox plays too?” I asked.

“With the PHF.”

“The Liberty?”

He nodded.

“My sister’s definitely interested in playing for them, but the pay isn’t as good as what we get.”

“Rox resisted for the same reason, but she looked bored playing beer league.”

We walked out of the building and parted ways when we got to the parking lot. I drove over to the bar, white-knuckling my steering wheel the whole time. I didn’t want to see my dad tonight. I’d much rather bury myself inside Veronica instead of deal with my complicated relationship with my dad.

I parked my car and reluctantly went inside. I spotted Veronica at the bar, talking with Ayden. A hand gripped my arm before I could walk over to my fake girlfriend.

I spun around and scowled when I saw it was my dad. Dad was big, so at six-foot-three, I met his height, but sometimes he made me feel three feet tall.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“No,” I spat.

“Blaise—”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his greying hair. “Please, come into the office and talk to me?”

“Fine, whatever,” I muttered and followed him into his office in the back.

Dad went behind the desk, took two beer bottles out of the mini-fridge behind him, and handed me one. I slumped into the chair in front of his desk and waited for the lecture.