Page 3 of Charm Me Not

Una

“Are you evenlistening?”

I sighed, twirling my pasta around my fork and resting my head in my hand. Why Dad insisted I stay for dinner after we got home was beyond me. All he had been doing so far was yapping about soccer and the playoffs coming up.

Honestly, I was excited for him. It was the first time in a long time the boys were even considered to go past the first round. If they made it to State, it would be Dad’s first appearance as an assistant coach.

But why did he need to talk tomeabout it? He had an entire team of boys who would eagerly chat for hours and hours. Heck, even his ex-wives made it a point to listen to him talk about soccer every now and then. At least, they seemed interested most of the time.

I liked soccer. At one point, I was as obsessed with it as Dad. But that phase died a long time ago, and hearing Dad go on and on about it wasn’t at the top of my to-do list anymore.

I had deals to be made. Contracts to finish out. Places, people, all that kind of stuff.

“Sure,” I replied, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti into my mouth so I didn’t have to say any more.

“You promise, then?”

That got my attention. I never made promises I couldn’t keep, especially if I didn’t know what I was promising. What had he said before this?

“Say it again?”

Dad sighed and put his fork and napkin down, pushing away his now empty plate. “You outing yourself to the team tonight, squidlet. I know we had a deal that no one was to know we were related, but you broke it, so now we need to talk about it.”

I winced at the nickname. He had been calling me that ever since I was little, when I had a fascination with squids. Squidlet wasn’t even the right name for a baby squid. I looked it up years ago, but he wouldn’t drop it.

“And?”

He shuffled out of his chair and took his plate to the sink, rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher. “And I asked you to promise to stay away from them.”

“Done deal. Like I want anything do to with them anyway,” I answered immediately. I had absolutely no intentions of interacting with any of them ever again, so that was an easy promise.

“I mean, no messing with them either. Nothing that distracts them from the game. From playoffs. From State. Now that they know we’re related, I have a feeling the curiosity will set in and they might approach you and—”

“And what? Do you think any of them will try anything after what happened to Bastian?” I challenged, throwing out a name I knew would get a reaction from him.

Dad didn’t hate any of his players. He treated them fairly and with respect. But Bastian pushed him to his limits, and with what he did to me a few years back… Well, Dad made a choice, and he stuck with it to this day.

“No, probably not. I just feel like I have to warnyoumore than I have to warn them. They’ll be getting a similar talk, especially the ones in your grade. But Una, you’re a beautiful, smart, successful young woman and they’re teenage boys. I know things happen. I’ve been there myself with your moth—”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. But I have places to be,” I interrupted him before he could talk about Mom. I didn’t want to hear it. And I would bet that he didn’t want to say it anyway. “Soccer players and I don’t mix. You have nothing to worry about.”

I dropped my plate and fork in the sink before dashing out the front door, my finger already resting on Ali’s number. He could pick me up from the corner. By the time we got back, Dad would most likely be asleep anyway.

My thumb instinctivelywent for my ring finger after reading my last text. I frowned, realizing all my rings were currently missing.

“You left them in my car,” Ali said. I looked up, finding his face glowing in the flames from the firepit between us. “When you put on that gross smelling lotion.”

I waited a beat, wondering if he was going to read my mind or not.

He let out a laugh and poked at the burning logs, sending embers up into the air. “I’m not your servant. Go get them yourself.”

With a groan, I pushed up and stood, shooting him a look, to which he just continued laughing. He and I went to grab some drinks and snacks soon after dinner with Dad. We had just gotten back about ten minutes ago, which meant I went ten minutes without realizing my rings were gone.

My focus was slipping.

“Just because you have half of the Teller kids doing your bidding doesn’t mean I do the same, sweetheart,” he called.

I rolled my eyes and made my way to my driveway to his car to retrieve my rings. Each one had a specific spot, and I had to put them on in a specific order each time. The black squid went on my thumb. The silver ring of thorns on my ringer finger—that was the one I liked to fiddle with the most, so the finish was worn off. I also had a fake diamond skull on my other hand. Those three were my mains; all the others rotated in and out as I felt like it.

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