Page 60 of Rebel Summer

He leveled his gaze on my dad. “Yeah. She’s your daughter. Some jackass just tried to take advantage of her, and you’re taking his side to save face. She should mean a lot more to you than your precious campaign.”

Daggers shot from my dad’s eyes as he fought for control of his emotions. “Didn’t you have an older brother once? Maybe you shouldn’t be lecturing me about family matters.”

Dax’s hands curled on the door slightly. He took a second to recover before saying, “I’m not the one pretending to be something I’m not.”

Steam poured from my dad’s body as he took another step toward Dax. Bolting forward, I slipped underneath Dax’s arm holding the door open and stepped between them.

“Time to go, Dad.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“So you can spend more time with him? You’ve already had one court sentencing. You don’t need any more.” He tried to grab my arm.

I reared back, fire, not blood, searing through my veins.

“How dare you come here and insinuate anything. You know nothing about him. Or me, for that matter.”

“Time to go.” Dax motioned the senator toward his golf cart.

My dad stared at him before shaking his head with disgust. He was halfway to his golf cart when he called over his shoulder, “We’re not done talking about this.”

“We are,” I said, taking another step forward as my dad retreated. I held myself back from clasping Dax’s arm as he stood near the doorway, watching my dad leave.

Dax closed the door and locked it before turning around. For a long moment, he looked at me in slight disbelief.

“You’ve lived with that your whole life?”

Humiliation painted my cheeks. “It’s election year. He’s always wor?—”

He lifted my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet his eyes, the touch of his fingers halting the words from my lips.

“Stop. He doesn’t deserve your excuses. He doesn’t deserve you. Got it?”

I blinked. Before I could overanalyze the sweetness in that statement, he pivoted and brought us back to lighter ground.

Dropping my chin and taking a step back, he said, “I’ve lived here three years without a single incident. You move in, and bam, constant trouble.”

Another thought came to me as I threw my hands on my cheeks.

“My dad thinks we?—“

“I know.”

The tone of his voice had me looking up at him. “Why are you smiling?”

“I should've kissed you in front of him.” Dax stepped around me and yanked the blanket off the floor before flopping down, re-situating the blanket over top of him. “If he ever talks to you like that again in front of me, you better buckle up.”

I had just gotten off a date where a guy tried to steal a kiss—perhaps more than that. The thought of kissing Lucas triggered my upchuck reflex. Although his reasoning might have been flawed, the thought of kissing Dax gave my body a different reaction—if the tingles lacing my arms and the flood of saliva gathering in my mouth meant anything.

A delicious scenario suddenly burst into my thoughts. It began with teasing and flirting and ended with Dax pulling me closer, his hands gripping my?—

“Hit the lights, would you?”

I bolted forward, remembering myself, and flipped the switch.

The cool sheets welcomed me as I settled into my bed for the third time that night. Stress had run its course, and I could feel the exhaustion settling in my limbs as I found the perfect position to rest my head on the pillow.

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