Page 46 of Watched

“You just exposed someone for doing what you’re trying to do right now.”

Propping my phone against my laptop screen, I lock my hands in my lap. “Call me a hypocrite or whatever nickname you think suits.”

“Prick.”

“I was hoping for something a little more friendly, but whatever you want, baby.”

He moves to sit on his bed, still not hanging up. I mean, he could, but I’d become even more of a hypocrite, because I’d pester the fuck out of him until I got what I want.

His eyes fall down my body quickly. Pushing away from the desk, I roll back, bettering his view. “Do it again.”

“Prick.”

A loud laugh bounces my chest, which his eyes lock on, slowly raking down my body to my white sweatpants.

“You don’t have tattoos?” he asks.

“Never found anything I want permanently on me, but your name may be an exception.”

He sighs, running a hand down his reddening face.

“I was thinking my ass, but my wrist might be better.”

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you, Rain. I appreciate you helping with Kilah, but that’s the extent of our relationship. I’ll pay you for what you’ve done.”

“In dick pics.”

“Rain.”

“Baby.” He drops his head, the screen turning to face the ceiling. “You haven’t spent any of your money.”

“It’s not mine,” he snaps.

“It is.”

His face appears again, raged and tense. “I’m not a charity case.”

“Don’t twist my intentions. I want you to be comfortable. If you want a new house, buy one. You want a new car, get one. You want to spoil your sisters, do it.”

“I…” he trails off, looking away. “Your father intervened in my career today, and I’m pissed off about that too.”

I pull myself closer. “What do you mean?”

“I was benched. He made my coach put me on.”

I can understand why Dad did that. Rome deserves to be playing. Still, he shouldn’t do anything regarding Rome without my say so.

“I’ll handle it,” I assure.

“I already did,” he growls, which only makes my cock twinge. “All Westons can fuck off out of my life.”

His face disappears as he hangs up. So, I ring again and again, until I’m listening to the automated voicemail.

I’m glad we’re killing Atticus Cade tonight. I need to let off some fucking steam.