Page 3 of A Little Bit Reckless
I swallowed. My parents knew I had a YouTube channel and social media where I did cooking thirst-trap content. I cooked with little clothing on and did some playful squeezing (or teasing) with the food. Nudity got you flagged, so I always wore an apron or kept my clothing tight. I used my face and body to my advantage, and I think that was why people watched, but they stayed for the food, which was the point. Yeah, I did a little mind trickery to get people to watch, but it wasalwaysabout the food. Always.
I could get by without the clothes on my channel and socials obviously. I could also do without expensive trips with my friends. I’d hate that shit, but I could do it. But if I didn’t have my cooking gear… I shook my head. “Dad, how am I supposed to cook if I have nothing to cook with?”
My parents didn’t love that I did thirst-trap videos, but they respected the art of cooking and my love for it. That art required the latest cookware and, though my mom especially loathed the fact that her son was taking off his shirt for the views, she knew cooking was my life, my dream. I came from a long line of chefs and that passion must have been passed down. My grandmas owned several Michelin-star restaurants and, though my dad didn’t, he did run a fast-food franchise empire. Jax’s Burgers could be eaten all over the fucking place.
My dad’s chosen career field was fitting. He loved food too, and that was the Ambroses. Our family cooked. That was what we fucking did. It was our lives.
Dad’s eyes blazed. “You’ll get by, and I’m also taking your car, so no more zipping around in your Audi.”
My back shot up. “But how am I supposed to come home for the weekends and get around campus?”
Dad’s eye twitched now. “Oh, do you mean how do you get around to classes you’re clearly not paying attention in? My God, Wells, do you know how bad things have to get to be put on academic probation? That letter says if you don’t shape up this semester, the university is kicking you out of school.”
I said nothing. I think it was best not to in that moment.
Dad’s expression turned grave. “I mean, are you even going to class?”
I wasn’t. At least, not last semester, but I had my reasons. They were ones I couldn’t explain to my father, but I’d never been awesome in school. Cooking had always been my thing, and I was good at that.
Again, I said nothing.
Dad pointed at me. “If you get kicked out of school, I’m definitely not paying for you to go to culinary school. I’m not rewarding that kind of behavior.”
Fucking panicked now, I started to say something, but my mom did first.
She placed a hand on Dad’s arm. “Honey, isn’t that a little extreme?”
I wasn’t surprised Mom came to my defense. She knew going to culinary school was always part of the ultimate plan for my life. I went to Pembroke University to play football and be with my friends. We were like brothers, but football and academics were never endgame for me like it was for some of them. I was always going to go to culinary school after college. After that, I planned to go the route of my grandmothers and ultimately own my own restaurant.
Dad shook his head. “I don’t think so, Cleo. We just can’t reward this behavior,” he said, and Mom nodded. Clearly, she didn’t want to, but she agreed with him. Dad frowned at me. “Wewon’treward this behavior.”
My life was literally flashing before my eyes as I watched my dad take my mom’s hand. He started to guide her out, taking my future with him, and I panicked.
I didn’t know how I did it, but I got in front of them. I cut off their exit and I opened my mouth so fucking fast. “Dad, I have a tutor.”
The words rolled out before I could stop them.
Again, I panicked.
I also said it loud, in fact so loud that my parents’ heads shot back a little. Dad eyed me. “A… tutor?”
I nodded adamantly. I had like two seconds to get my thoughts straight, my lies straight. I swallowed. “Yeah, I’ve been working with one all semester. I’ve been trying to work on things. I don’t want to get kicked out of school.”
Dad didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t blame him. I mean, I was lying through my ass here. He folded his arms. “Really?”
No. “Yes.”
I tried not to make it sound like a question on the end, and the surprise on my dad’s face was legendary. He hadn’t expected me to say such a thing. Hell,Ihadn’t expected me to say such a thing, and, to support the lie, I pulled out my phone.
“Look, I’m using Bow Reed’s app and everything,” I said, pulling it up. Rainbow Reed was my buddy Thatcher’s little sister. She was brilliant like him, but I’d never let her know that shit. She also happened to design an app for high school and college students to find tutors and did so in high school herselffor fun. She claimed she wanted to help people, but I knew that was phony as shit.
It was as phony as she was.
I knew that girl, who she really was, but those were thoughts for another day. Right now, I was using her accomplishments for my own benefit and had no problem doing so.
After all, she drew first blood.
My focus on my dad was the only thing that pulled me out of my intrusive thoughts about Bow Reed, and I was grateful. I needed clarity for all the lies I was spewing. Dad would believe me about Bow. He liked Bow. He was her godfather after all.
