Page 12 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

I want to point out he faces a wide range of hazards on his job that could kill him even faster than a boxing injury, but I won’t. He’s the lion, and my hand is now resting in his mouth.

“This should’ve been a hobby, nothing else. Those high school awards were great, sure. Was I proud of you? Yes. But a boxing career wasn’t part of the plan. You should’ve finished college, then come work for me. Instead, you got caught up and gave up our dream.”

No, your dream, Dad. Not mine.

Muffling a sigh, I take a seat around the table while he keeps going.

“What was I to do? I let you go like you wanted. I knew it wouldn’t work. I knew you’d come back. Silly me for thinking you’d learn your lesson, that you would listen to my advice this time. Yet, here you are, still closing the door on college. Pathetic, if you ask me.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, the disappointment on his face triggering a dip in my stomach as well. It bums me out that I can’t make him proud, but I need to follow my dreams.

“You have a right to your opinion. I respect it, and I respect you.”

“Mhmm. I hope that’s not your attempt to butter me up. I’m still giving you six months to get your act right and get out of my house. Until then, I expect the rent on time.”

“Understood.” Suddenly, the thought of breakfast isn’t so appealing anymore. I bid my excuse and rise from the table.

“Leaving in half an hour, you hear me?” Dad calls gruffly as I walk off. “You don’t get to be late because you’re the boss’s son. And don’t think of riding that noisy, gas-guzzling thing you call a car. You’re riding with me.”

“Heard,” I mutter in reply. Mom stands by the kitchen sink as I head toward the back door. I detour, giving her a quick peck on her cheek.

“Good morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, Sweetie.” She stares up at me fondly, then brushes the hair from my face. “Don’t let his grumpiness get to you. He means well.”

“I know.” I accept the side hug she gives me, then continue on my way.

Fresh air. It’s weird how a deep inhale immediately settles me. I draw in another breath, and as I release it, I see Sky step through her back door.

She’s carrying something in a dark tank that’s being hidden by her long hair. I watch as she sets the tank down, takes the lid off and then dip inside. My eyes roam her ass, and I silently acknowledge that maybe I’m not a leg guy anymore. Or maybe it’s just Sky’s ass that I like. I’m tempted to find out if it’s as firm as it looks.

My attraction to her is no surprise. She’s a beautiful girl, even with her tousled hair and the T-shirt that’s two sizes too big. What surprised me was her hostile response last night. I can’t remember doing anything to offend her—well, except the teasing all those years ago. Those were innocent, childish gestures meant to deliver no harm. I can’t imagine her hating me for that.

Maybe she’s not mad at me. Maybe she’s pissed at life, at her mom for leaving. God knowsI’dbe furious aboutthat.

“What are you staring at?” Peter’s voice suddenly comes behind me, and I turn as he closes our back door. He looks over at Sky. “Oh. Chubby Sky ain’t so chubby anymore, am I right?”

I shrug, watching as she closes the lid and picks up the tank. She glances over to us, then does a double take, flips her middle finger at us and storms inside.

“Is it me, or is she mad at both of us?”

It’s Peter’s time to shrug, but I swear there’s a flash of guilt on his face. “Sky always has a stick up her ass. You know that.”

“She’s always been intense, but not with us.”

“I don’t know, man. I find it hot, though, no lie.”

The back door flies open, and Dad sticks out his head. “Ready in five, Ash!” he barks.

“Duty calls,” I mumble to Peter. “See you later.”

“Yeah, let’s see if you get home in one piece. A boxing ring has nothing on a construction site, you know that,” he calls after me.

I wave in reply, then hurry upstairs and get dressed in a T-shirt, jeans and a pair of boots Dad lent me last night.

Then I’m up in a tense car ride with my dad while he grumbles about my choices, about how I shouldn’t have given up on business school, how he’d been dying to train me to take over. And I don’t say a word. He doesn’t want me to, and defending myself would just start a fight. Then I’m slinging bags of dry concrete, working muscles I don’t work at the gym.

It’s a hard ten-hour day, but I get home around four and see Sky leaving. I pause, taking in the loose jeans and looser T-shirt that says she’s Wild about Nature. I hose off my shoes and see her eyes flick to me.

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