Page 26 of Puck of the Irish

Good night, Nat

Nat: Night, AJ

Thirteen

NAT

“I thoughtI made my thoughts on the matter pretty fucking clear, dad.”

“You were upset in the moment. So we’re going to have the conversation again, Natalie. It’s far past time for a serious discussion.”

“I’m not doing this right now. I’m at work,” I hiss, leaning around my computer to make sure no one’s within hearing distance. “I’ll talk to you more at dinner next week.”

“Fine.”

“Love you,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Love you too.”

We hang up and I ball my hands into fists, so annoyed that I’m shaking. I can’t believe he’s back to planning my entire life for me, like I don’t get a say. I’m a fucking adult. I’m tired of him acting like I’m not, like I’m just some puppet that’ll do whatever he wants me to do when he pulls the strings. I have a bad feeling that next week’s dinner is going to end in a blow out, but I don’t care.

A knock on my door draws my attention.

“Hey, Bobby, come on in.”

He smiles and saunters in, sinking into one of the soft leather chairs beside my desk. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes and I arch a brow.

“Someone looks tired.”

“I was up late,” he says vaguely, but I narrow my eyes when his cheeks darken a bit.

“Bobby Tremblay, are youblushing??” He straightens and his light brown cheeks darken even more and my mouth pops open. “You are!! Spill it!”

“I am not! I just…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I kind of hooked up with someone last night. Someone I definitely shouldn’t have.”

I huff out a laugh. “Join the fucking club, my friend,” I mutter.

“I’ll be the treasurer,” he says with a half-smile.

“How was it?” I ask eagerly, leaning in and wanting all the details. I’ve been trying to find someone to set him up with, but he shoots down all of my suggestions. Bobby is very picky, apparently.

“It was…amazing,” he sighs with a smile. “Really fucking amazing.” I squeal and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t get all excited. It was just a casual thing.”

“For now,” I say with a grin and he can’t help but smile at my enthusiasm.

“Are you still hooking up with a certain star Center with a rumored extra large…stick?” he asks, pointedly.

“No. Yes. No,” I say shaking my head. “Definitely no.” He gives me a look that says cut the bullshit, and I groan. “Ok, so we might have, uh, sexted last night? Is that still what it’s called?”

Now he leans forward, golden eyes alight with interest.

“Was it hot? Ah hell, I bet it was hot. He looks like the kind of guy with a filthy mouth who knows all the right things to say.”

“It was. He is.” I put my head in my hands. “But that’s the last time. I’m not letting anything happen again, text or otherwise.”

“Sure, sure,” he says breezily.

“I mean it!” He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe that for a second and I flip him off. My phone buzzes then and his brows raise up.