All in

Chapter 3

Jason's POV

"You look tired, honey. Are you sure you're up to going out?"

I glanced at my dad for help, but his nose was buried in a biker magazine and he didn't bat an eye. Kind of convenient, the magazine, but in a house run by the woman standing in front of me, with both hands on her hips and that penetrating gaze that could see anything, not really a surprise.

My dad is a big guy. Not only is he tall with broad shoulders, he's built like a brick house. He's got bulging biceps, an affinity for tattoos, and a shaved head to boot. The tattoo thing we have in common, and though I can look him in the eye because we're pretty much the same height now, I'm more on the lean side. On the football field I was the go-to wide receiver because I was built for speed, while my dad would have been the center or fullback.

He's an intimidating dude, and when he wants to, he can look pretty damn scary.

Except he's so far from scary it's laughable. Don't get me wrong. My dad's temper has a slow fuse, and when it's lit, he has no problem using his size to intimidate anyone who wrongs him. And he's more than willing to back up that attitude with his fists. No one pushes him around. I mean, no one.

Well, except for my mum.

She has him by the balls, and he's totally fine with it. He told me once that a good woman was hard to come by and even harder to keep. He said that when found the right girl, I'd do whatever I needed to do to make her happy. Case in point? A few years back, dad took up line dancing because my mum wouldn't stop talking about it. Line dancing. Can you imagine? Talk about a bull in a china shop.

At the time I thought it was lame, and Alex and I used to razz him about it. A lot. I mean, he was about as far away from those line dancing guys as you could get. But my dad would just shake his head and grin. He told Nate and I that even though he had two left feet, it was worth it because it made mum happy. He said that one day we would learn what it meant to put someone else first.

One day we would learn how a smile could knock us on our ass.

All of that was fine-hell, it was his life and all- but I couldn't help but think that when mum got all up in my shit, he should at least stick up for me. Wasn't there some kind of guy code?

"Jason? Did you hear me? I think you're a little pale. Maybe you should just stay in. Your first day studying must have been intense. You might have overdone it."

Here we go.

"I'm fine."

The words came out a little sharp, and I heard my dad rattle his magazine-his warning for respect. Whatever. I needed to get out. I'd been pissed ever since Catherine blew me off at the library, and these days, my temper doesn't have a slow fuse. It can turn on a dime, and right now, I felt something brewing.

I needed to get out.

If only I could find my damn cell phone. It was here, among all the crap tossed unto the kitchen counter. There was at least a week's worth of newspapers piled up (who actually read the paper anymore?) along with an impressive amount of junk mail.

"Are you looking for this?" Mum asked gently, rooting out my phone from beneath an issue of Better homes & Gardens. Huh. Since when did my parents give a shit about landscaping?

"Thanks," I said, taking my cell phone from her. "Noah's gonna be here in a few."

"Where are you guys going?"

Mum and I glanced up as my sister Hailey walked into the kitchen. Two years younger than me, she was almost sixteen, and her attitude these days fluctuated between hostile and bitchy and, well, not much else.