Page 32 of Puck Prince

I scowl at her. “You really think you can raise a kid in our family who doesn’t swear?”

“I’m gonna try.” She smiles sweetly.

“Good luck with that. Us Sharpes aren’t known for our manners.”

“We have the same mom, not the same dad. There’s hope for him yet.”

True as that is, all of our mom’s love interests were waste of space assholes. The actual men who spawned us might be different, but there’s a one hundred percent certainty that they were, more or less, the same kind of dude. It’s why I want to help Summer; she and I might be the products of bad choices, but Nicky doesn’t have to be.

I like to think he has a chance.

“Summer. Let me help you. Let me help him.”

“Maybe eventually. But right now, I am scared to be anywhere on my own.”

“Tell me who did this to you and you will feel safer.”

“Why? So you can go all Big Brother and murder the guy and end up in jail? Not gonna happen. I can take care of myself, O.”

I raise an eyebrow and she winces.

“... other than needing a place to crash once in a while when I’m feeling anxious.”

She isn’t going to budge. She’s fiery and stubborn as fuck, two things we have in common. Must be from our mom’s side. Thegoodside.

She tucks Nicky into his car seat, and I walk her out. As we get in the elevator, I have my routine moment of anxiety. I scan the parking lot for press, for camera flashes or even just someone on their phone.

But things are pretty dead.

“Have you talked to the guys on the team about how to ward off the press?” she asks.

“Unless I want to get engaged, they have no useful advice.”

She looks at me. “Unless youwhat?”

“Miles says the press stopped hounding him completely as soon as he proposed to his girlfriend. But unless I want to mail order a bride, that’s off the table.” I laugh bitterly.

But she doesn’t.

She looks pissed, if anything.

“Miles sounds like a complete idiot.”

“For getting married? Miles is a good guy. He’s even talking about retiring and going into sports news because it fits the family man persona a little better.”

Summer is unimpressed. “I don’t know. Just sounds like a cop-out to me, using marriage to camouflage the rest of your life. I parked in the back, under the trees for shade.” She points and wemake our way in that direction. I carry the car seat for her, my head still on a swivel, continuing to look for anyone, anywhere that might be watching.

The coast seems to be clear. That is except for?—

“Cute girl alert,” Summer mumbles through a smile.

Oh, fuck me.

Callie is getting out of her car. She looks up at us as we approach. Of course they are parked right the fuck next to each other. I look down, baby in one hand, the other hand resting on Summer’s lower back to steer her towards the car. Maybe if we just act like?—

“Oh my God, I love that skirt!” Summer exclaims. Goddammit, why do women do this?I love your skirt! I love your shoes! Oh my God! Nobody cares!

“That’s so sweet of you.” I don’t even have to look at Callie’s face to know she is in panic mode, too. Unlike me, though, she’s painting over it with girl small talk.

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