Page 33 of Strong Side

My dad only cares when my actions directly affect his image. If I do something “right” not a single word, but if I do something that doesn’t meet his impossibly high and unattainable standards, which is almost always, he’s on the phone faster than I can blink. And god forbid he actuallyshows upfor something.

And my mom… she’s more checked out than she ever was. My dad’s constant berating has slowly chipped away at the loving and attentive mother I once had when I was a small child. Now, she’s just a socialite who floats in the air of Miami’s humid breeze, flaunting her money up and down Ocean Drive and only speaking to me on my birthday and holidays.

Suffice it to say, the Campos’ warm welcome is something I wasn’t prepared for.

I wonder if Cassandra has ingredients for chocolate chip cookies?

Noticing me anxiously bouncing my leg up and down, Rocky takes me by surprise and wraps his large hand around my thigh, just below the hem of my athletic shorts, halting my movements. The feel of his warm hand on my skin slightly calms the anxiety that’s buzzing inside of me.

“You okay?” he asks, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look over at me. One look at my face and his smile falls and is replaced with a look of concern.

Giving him a half-hearted smile, I answer, “Fine.”

“Clay…” He drags my name out, knowing damn well that I’m feeling more than justfine.

Since when is he so in tune with emotions?

“Talk to me.”

A heavy sigh escapes me, and I absentmindedly fidget with his fingers on my thigh. “Seeing how your family, how your parents, acted today just got me thinking.”

“About your parents?”

“I couldn’t tell you the last time I experienced how your family made me feel today. They made me feel seen. They made me feel wanted. And they don’t even know me. My own parents haven’t done that for me since I was a child. And it all just made me feel a little—”

“Overwhelmed?”

Of course he gets me. I don’t know when it happened, but Rocky can read almost my every thought.Sometimes he knows how to articulate what I’m feeling better than I do.

I didn’t know how much I needed that in my life until he came along. Someone who can help me figure out exactly what I’m feeling when my own thoughts just feel toobig.

“I know my family is a lot.” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “But they have always wanted what was best for me. And because you’re in my life, they’re going to want the best for you too.” His hand gives my leg a firm squeeze, and he begins stroking his thumb along my skin. Goosebumps skate up my leg. I’m not entirely used to him being this affectionate, but I’m certainly not opposed. “That means you are going to be treated as one of their own. The hugs will be neverending, the conversations will always be loud, and Lil will give you endless shit. It may be a lot but I wouldn’t change it for the world. But if at any point it feels like too much, you just tell me and we will take a break. We’ll go on a walk or hide in my room until you feel like you can breathe. You just need to tell me. Okay?”

“Thank you for understanding. For not judging.”

“I would never judge you,Garotão.” I snort a laugh and raise my brow. “Okay, I would never judge you about something like this. Your terrible taste in music, yes. You’re feelings, never.”

As much as I want to fucking swoon over the sentimental part of that statement, instead, I reach out and pull at his curls on the nape of his neck. “I do not have terrible taste in music.”

“You wore a Shania Twain shirt to my birthday party, Clayton.”

I pull harder. “Shania Twain is an icon. Disrespect her, and I’m not sure we can be friends.”

Rocky’s hand moves up my thigh slightly as he looks over at me again. I may not be able to see his eyes behind his shades, but I know he narrowed his gaze at me. “That’s what we are, huh? Friends?”

No, no it’s not. I want to be so much more than that. But I’m not entirely sure he’s ready to hear it. “Partners?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

His hand moves higher under my shorts. His breath hitches when he realizes I’m not wearing any briefs. “Partners?”

“Teammates?” I swallow hard as I feel the tip of his finger brush against the head of my dick as it twitches in my shorts. His grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point of his knuckles turning white.

I don’t miss the tent forming beneath his shorts as he shifts in his seat.

“Rocky…”

“Hmm?” he asks, as he runs his finger along the length of my matching erection.

“If you don’t stop right now, I will make you pull this car over so I can fuck you on the side of the highway where everyone can see. So unless you want to show up to your parents freshly fucked, I suggest you remove your hand.”

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