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“That’s rich,” I snort. “Coming from you.”
“Watch your fucking attitude. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”
“Is there any reason you called? Not that it’s not always a pleasure to catch up.”
“All right, smart-ass. Don’t forget that I’m still the one who calls the shots around here. Just because you used your mother to worm your way back onto the team—”
“I didn’t do shit,” I growl. “She wanted me back, and in case you forgot, she has just as much say in what happens with the team as you do.”
“She does,” he answers, his voice icy. “As long as you don’t fuck things up. You know what will happen if you decide to play hero.”
I do know, unfortunately. It’s the only reason I’m even still entertaining his bullshit.
“I got it, Dad. I’ve already agreed to the episode. I can’t back out now. You wanted me to do everything Leilani said, remember? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want you to be at some damned cable show’s beck and call.”
“Well, it’s done. I’m not canceling.”
“If you want to keep pissing your career down the drain with mediocre gameplay and stupid fucking career decisions, playing the trained monkey for that dumb girl, then you—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss, surprising myself. I’ve never really talked back to him, not in all the years since he’s been doing his best to control every part of my life. “Don’t talk about her. You hear me? Don’t you ever fucking talk about her.”
My father makes a disgusted sound. “Please tell me you aren’t fucking around with the Baker girl. After all the shit that went down with you and Mei, you really think it’s a good idea to have another public—”
“I said,” I manage through gritted teeth, “don’t talk about her. Remember, Dad, it’s your ass I’ve been protecting by keeping my mouth shut. Your stupid fucking legacy. If it wasn’t for Mom, I would—”
The rest of what I’d been about to say falls flat when I catch sight of soft brown waves and a smile that brings my anger from an inferno to a simmer, swallowing down the rest of my vitriol and deciding that Bradley Chase isn’t worth my time right now.
“I have to go,” I mutter into the receiver. “Don’t call me if this is all you have to say.”
I can hear him shouting even as I pull the phone away, cutting him off as I end the call before shoving the device in my pocket as Lila sidles up to me.
“Hey, Cupcake,” she says sweetly, reaching out to hook a finger in my pocket.
She gives it a sharp tug, surprising me as she presses up on her toes to leave a brief kiss at my mouth. I find myself leaning into her as if instinctually, my eyes closing of their own accord as my hands unconsciously gravitate toward her waist.
I’m a little dazed when she pulls away—too quickly for my liking—but she looks perfectly composed.
“I thought I was going to have to send out search and rescue,” she teases.
“Oh. Sorry.” I frown, trying to shove thoughts of my father away. “Phone call.”
“Everything okay? You looked sort of stressed out.”
“It’s nothing.” I wave her off. “Just my father and his same old bullshit.”
Her brow furrows. “Still being a dick?”
“On a good day.”
Her hand finds mine, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. We have an episode to do, right?”
Her lips curl. “Right. I hope you’re ready to milk this shit, because Ava is on a rampage.”
“Milk it?”
