Page 6 of Whiskey Wednesdays

He smirked, then glanced down at my dusty legs and running shoes. “Does being sweaty and dirty all the time run in your family?”

What a fucking asshole. My dad did maintenance and yard care, so of course he was dusty and dirty sometimes.

I straightened and put my hand down. “Did you want something?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I want to know if you plan to move in with your dad here. Because Connor’s gonna have to charge rent if you do.”

I cocked my head and stared at him. “Why is my dad, or me, any of your concern? You don’t live here, you’re not his employer, and your name isn’t on the paychecks.”

“You better watch your mouth, bitch. I could get your dad fired in about two seconds.”

I stepped forward and he instinctively backed up. Then he glared at me.

“I don’t care,” I said slowly. “And my dad wouldn’t either.”

Noah looked at me as if assessing for weaknesses, then his eyes lowered and he blatantly stared down at my breasts. I had on a plain blue racerback tank top and a sports bra. The fucker was still trying to intimidate me.

I snapped my fingers in his face. “Hey. Eyes up here.”

He jerked his head up as if he hadn’t expected me to call him out on his atrocious behavior.

I shook my head in disgust. Then I stepped to the side and started walking around the car to get my backpack out of the passenger seat.

“I’m not done talking to you,” he said loudly. He followed me and grabbed my arm, wrenching me around to face him.

The estate was deserted, and I didn’t know if my dad was awake yet. Noah scared me, but I didn’t want him to know it.

“But I’m done talking to you. Now let go of my arm.” My voice was loud and steady, even though my heart raced.

He squeezed my arm hard, then let go. I grabbed my backpack and walked to the front door.

“Listen, you little cunt–”

I beeped the lock on the car, walked inside, and shut and locked the door. I was so mad, my hands shook a little. Taking a deep breath in and out, I toed off my shoes and socks in the foyer and unpacked my backpack with unsteady hands.

My dad would be able to tell something was wrong if he saw me right then, so I tried to get my emotions under control. Idebated whether to tell him what had happened. But in the end, I let pride win out. I didn’t want to give Noah the satisfaction of knowing he’d scared me.

Chapter 3

Fall semester finally ended. It was mid-December, and I’d spent the past couple of days driving from Seattle to Palm Springs to move into the tiny one-bedroom apartment I’d rented.

The place came right out of the 1970s, with dingy gold linoleum and a popcorn ceiling. But it sat between the pediatric office and the hockey arena where I’d be completing the rest of my clinical hours, and the rent was cheap.

It was also one of the few places that would take a six-month lease. When I walked into it for the first time, I understood why. But I’d lived in some crappy places over the past five years. I’d be fine.

There was a two-week break before my clinical hours started again, and I was giddy to have so much time off. Dad had invited me to dinner that night, and while I unpacked I called my brother, Liam, to catch up.

Liam sighed. “I wish I were there with you guys.” The three of us loved our dinner and game nights.

“How are things with you?” I could hear restaurant noise in the background, and figured he was probably eating a late dinner somewhere in Washington, D. C where he lived.

“The same. Did you get done with your hours in Seattle then?”

I grinned. “Yes, thank God. Just one semester to go.”

“I bet Dad’s proud of you.”

Hefting a box onto my little kitchen counter, I started unpacking my secondhand dishes. “Thanks. Not as proud as he is of you, but I’ll take it.”

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