Page 11 of Scoring Chances
“It is what it is, kid.”
“Why do you have to be such a dick? Dad would’ve let me drive his car, and it’s a thousand times better than this piece of shit.”
He has the audacity to kick my tire.
I will not wring this boy’s neck. I will not wring this boy’s neck. I will not—
I take a deep breath before straightening and slamming down the hood of my Mustang.
“Don’t. Ever. Do that again,” I grit out, before turning to look at him.
He shakes his head. “I hate you,” he spits out, turning on his heel and stomping down the driveway away from me.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” I call out after him.
“Anywhere but here!” he yells back, pulling the headphones back on over his ears.
“Because it’s just so fucking bad here, isn’t it?” I mutter to myself. “I give this kid more than he could ever imagine, and he’s still so fucking ungrateful. This is exactly why I don't want—”
“Is it a habit of yours to talk to yourself?” I still, before turning toward the gentle voice behind me.
The universe's newest fuck you to me is standing right behind me. It knows I don't behave myself around the female species and so it delivered, Cassidy-off-limits-Jones, on a silver platter. Delicious and tempting. And then it shut a lid over that platter and pushed it away from me.
Nanny's are a no-go, as I've learned the hard way.
Unfortunately, I'm still a man with desires and my body didn't get the memo.
“Well, good morning, Sid,” I straighten.
“You can just call me Cassidy,” she says, tugging on the bottom of her braid. “Maddie informed me that Sid is some goofy giant sloth in a kid’s movie she watches and can’t take me seriously.”
I laugh, because I thought the exact same thing when she introduced herself yesterday.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask her, leaning on the side of my car.
She looks down the street at Cole’s retreating figure. “Better than him, I think.” She bites her bottom lip in concern.
Shit. Don't do that to me.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about Cole. He’s just a hormonal punk that–”
“Just lost his dad?” she says, facing me again.
“I was going to say doesn’t appreciate anything, but… yeah. That too. I guess.”
She shrugs. “It’s ok. I’d probably be the same way if I ever lost my dad. He’s kind of my best friend.”
I wouldn’t know. The dad that Cole, Parker, and Maddie lost–isn’t the same dad to me that he was to them.
When I heard of James’ passing, I wasn’t necessarily saddened by the news, more like inconvenienced by what it entailed for me.
And that’s selfish. I know. But why should I mourn a man who didn’t even have the common decency of reaching out to a son? He had so many opportunities when he was alive, especially because of my career. It’s not like I was hiding from him.
And now… he’s just a dark spot in my life; somebody that could’ve been something.
“I should go after him,” I say, pushing off the car.
“Um... can I ask you a question?” she says softly.