Chapter 17
Jameson
The door to my father’s office is half open, but I still knock.
“Come in,” he grunts from behind his desk.
I brace myself for his reaction, not sure what I’ll get.
He shuffles some papers in front of him, not bothering to look up at me. “I need you to go make a pickup.” His voice is calm, giving nothing away. He finally glances up at me, his expression neutral, as if I don’t look like I just got the shit kicked out of me.
“Sure,” I tell him, noticing the bruise that’s coloring his jaw from where I hit him. “Sid?”
He nods then goes back to the papers on his desk.
I stand in place, waiting to be dismissed. Is he fucking with me? Putting me at ease before he snaps?
I don’t let my guard down. Then again, I never do.
The seconds tick by, and I keep myself from anxiously shifting my feet.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “So, Johnny’s kid sister, huh?”
“What?”
“The girl,” he says. “You seeing her?”
I think before I respond. I want to tell him that I don’t know, but he hates when people give him anything less than a straight answer. “Yeah,” I tell him. “I am.”
“I would be, too, if I were your age,” he says. “Hot little thing like that.”
My hand flinches at my side, itching to form into a fist.
He leans back in his chair. “We’re having a family dinner tonight.”
A family dinner?
“Bring her,” he adds.
“It’s still new.” My words rush out. “Real new.”
He clicks his tongue. “That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing. Seems like she’s all up in your business. Put herself between us without a second thought, like she didn’t care what happened to her.”
“It’s—”
He shifts forward, his elbows coming down on the desk. “Dinner tonight, Jameson. Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll take your little plaything away.”
What the fuck does that mean? And she’s not my plaything.
I roll my lips to keep the words inside. Instead of snapping back, I nod.
“Good,” he says then waves his hand for me to leave.
I push the door open and find Johnny leaning against the wall beside it.
“You all right?” he asks quietly.
“Fine.”
He scans the length of my body like he’s looking for evidence that I’m lying.
I move past him, and he slips into the office.
Sam is sitting alone behind the desk, her head bent over a book. When she hears me approaching, her gaze pulls up, finding mine.
She sets down the book. “How’d it go?”
I run a hand through my hair and wince at the pain in my ribs.
“That bad?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“You only do that when you’re upset.” She motions to me. “Run your fingers through your hair.”
I drop my hand. “You been watching me?”
A blush creeps up her neck.
“Billy wants to talk to you,” she says, instead of answering my question.
“Figured he would.”
“I didn’t tell him anything … ’cause I didn’t know …” She trails off.
“Thanks.”
“Are you feeling okay?” she asks, running her eyes over me.
“Just a bit sore,” I answer. “I’m all right, though.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will,” I tell her then hesitate. “I need to, uh … I need to talk to you about something.”
She straightens. “Okay.”
“My dad wants you to come over for dinner tonight.”
Surprise quickly flashes across her face. “Why?”
“Because, you know, we’re …”
“We’re what?”
I blow out a breath. “After what happened last night, what you did …”
“What I did?”
“Stepping in between us.”
“Oh,” she says, as if it’s an afterthought.
“I was pissed when you did it …” I mutter, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” she huffs.
“Yeah.” I smirk. “It was also pretty badass.”
She lifts her chin, a small smile coming to her lips.
“But, anyway, after what you did last night, he asked if we were together.”
She blinks. “What’d you say?”
“I told him we are.”
Her small smile turns into a full one. “Did you really?”
I take a step closer.
“So, what are you—my …?” She shifts in her seat nervously. “Are you my boyfriend now?”
“Do you want me to be?”
She bites her lip and nods.
“Then, yeah,” I tell her. “I’m your boyfriend now.”
“And I’m your girlfriend,” she says more to herself.
I place my elbows on the desk, and our eyes lock.
She leans forward, erasing the distance between us, and I brush my lips over hers.
Her breath hitches as I wrap a hand around the back of her head, pulling her into me.
Her soft lips move over mine. I could do this all day, but I break the kiss with a sigh.
“I’ve gotta go.”
She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, clearing her throat. “Where?”
“I’ve gotta pick something up,” I answer vaguely.
Her face falls, but she doesn’t say anything.
“So, dinner tonight?” I ask.
She plays with one of her rings. “I’ll have to check with Johnny.” She looks up at me. “Your dad asking me to come over for dinner …”
“Yeah?”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
I start to raise my hand to run it through my hair, but stop when she tracks the motion. I lower it back to my side and shake my head. “I really don’t know.”