“Yeah, but remember the reason you were there? You were getting back at your mother. She’s the one you need to have it out with.”
“Hope can’t get away with this.”
“Just let it go,” Dax says calmly. “What does it matter what random people on the internet think? We’re together, aren’t we?”
I swallow roughly. “Yes.”
“And your mother knows. Why don’t you talk to her about staying out of your love life? Then you won’t have to play these games.”
“You think I’m being stupid?”
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I would never call you stupid.”
I smirk. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He kisses my forehead. “Just take a breath. Redirect your anger where it belongs.”
I huff. “Would you talk it out with your dad?”
“I don’t have to. He’s already out of the picture.”
“Doesn’t he tell Boscoe and McCoy how to act from jail?”
“If he does, they don’t act on it. Lance runs the show, and there’s no talking to Lance.”
I shudder at the thought. “Okay, I won’t retaliate against Hope. You’re right. Her posting the photo happened because I wanted to one-up my mother. I guess I need to handle this stuff differently.”
He brushes my cheek. “Remember, you've got me to lean on.”
I smile, falling into his stormy eyes. “I am stupid. I gave up an evening with you and spent it with LJ. I need to be committed.”
Dax laughs, hugging an arm around me. “That’s a bit extreme. How about you don’t see him again?”
“Is that an order?”
He shrugs. “It’s a suggestion.”
Twenty-Five
Daxmuststillbemad about me spending time with LJ. It’s the only logical reason why I woke up in bed alone. He didn’t even leave a note or text.
I thought he understood why I wanted to beat my mother’s mind games. I know he doesn’t like the games, but it’s how things work in my family.
There’s a sinking feeling in my gut.
Ash said I was playing games too.
I flick my bracelet around my wrist so hard it whips at my skin.
“Ouch.”
I wrap my hand around the inflamed area and grit my teeth. Perhaps I need to give up this habit. It’s starting to get painful.
Inside the manor, I head to the parlor to gaze at the view. I’m stymied by my mother, who clip-clops down the hallway. “How was your evening with LJ?”
“It was fine.”
A smile cracks her pompous expression. “Had fun, did you?”
