On The Rebound (Steinbeck U #1) - L.A. Cotton Page 0,18

your home. Now that your mom is... gone.” He inhaled a sharp breath. I was surprised. The man was usually as emotionally void as a tree stump. “You are more than welcome—”

“It was always the plan to stay in dorms.”

“Still as stubborn as ever, I see.” He steepled his fingers. “And money? You’re okay?”

Do you really care? The words teetered on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t let them escape, trapping them behind a thin smile.

“I’m fine. The sale of the house closed last month.” Mom had insisted the money went toward my tuition and living expenses. It wasn’t much after the mortgage was repaid, but it was enough for now.

“You know, I really was very sorry to hear Fiona—”

“Can we not do this?” My teeth ground together. He didn’t care. He’d called a handful of times throughout the whole ordeal.

I’d sat with my mom through chemo, hospital visits, endless days of sickness and pain. I’d clutched her hand near the end and tried to keep her spirits up. And what had Callum and Dad done?

They’d managed to check in on us a handful of times.

I would never forgive them for that.

Ever.

“Of course, I imagine it’s still all very raw.”

Un-fucking-believable.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab the trophy he kept on his desk, throw it at the wall and watch it break apart, the way I’d been broken apart.

But I didn’t. Because the little girl inside me desperate for her father’s attention refused to give up. Not to mention the promise I’d made to a dying woman to... try.

Despite all his flaws—and there were many—Andrew James was still my father, and I was still his daughter.

God, sometimes I wished I didn’t care so much. Sometimes, I wished that I could just step outside the lines of what was expected of me and just throw caution to the wind and go with my gut feeling.

But I’d tried that once... and it had ended with Zachary Messiah breaking my heart a second time.

No, I had to stay true to who I was. I liked rules and boundaries and I prided myself on adhering to them.

“Are we eating?” I took a calming breath, changing the subject.

“There are chicken and vegetables in the refrigerator. I’m not a great cook though so maybe you could…”

I stood up and clenched my fists at my sides, reveling in the sting of my nails in my palm. “I’ll get right on that.”

At least I could take my frustrations out with a knife on some unsuspecting carrots.

“Actually,” Callum poked his head around the door. “I’m not staying.”

“Son, we talked about this. I want us to sit down and eat as a family. You’re hardly here anymore, and Calli is... well, she’s going to cook us something delicious.”

“It’s a team thing,” he said.

“A team thing.” Our father sat straighter, his expression morphing into one of interest. A far cry from the strained smile he’d worn with me only seconds earlier.

But I was used to this. In fact, it almost felt like old times.

“It’s only a casual thing, to welcome the new guys to the team.”

“Ah, initiation.”

“Dad, you know we don’t do that shit.” Callum let out an audible groan.

“I’m not the school administration, Cal. I’m not going to admonish you for some good old team fun.”

“Okay, whatever. So, I can go?”

It amused me that at twenty-one years old, Callum still felt the need to ask our father for permission. My father hadn’t told him no in his entire life.

“Of course, go. Have fun. Say hi to the guys for me. Tell them I’m expecting big things this season.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” he grumbled, barely meeting my eyes.

Callum disappeared, the slam of the front door like a gunshot to my heart.

He just left.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse between us, he went and proved me wrong.

Indignation burned through me. It started off like a small ember, quickly catching and sweeping into a firestorm. And before I knew what I was saying, the words rushed out, “Actually, Dad, I need to go too. Can we take a raincheck on the dinner?”

“Calliope, what on earth are you talking about. We can still—”

“I just remembered, I have a thing.”

“A thing? What thing?” His eyes narrowed.

“A society thing. We’ll rearrange. I’ll call.”

I wouldn’t, but whatever.

All I knew was, I wasn’t about to stand here and prepare vegetables for a father who could care less about me and a brother who would rather be with his precious team than spend time