Chapter Seven
Mason
“So how’s the pool business.”
I’m startled for a second by my dad’s gruff voice behind me. I turn around and lean against the kitchen counter and I open the beer I just pulled out of the fridge. My pulse is still hammering in my ears after seeing Layla, again. Teasing her was fun but ending just to push her buttons was hard a fuck to do. All I want to do is march right over there, kick her door in, rip her clothes off, pin her to the bed, and fuck the hell out of her, like I know she needs and wants.
But instead, I pumped my cock with my hand until I shot my cum across my abs and thighs. Now, twenty minutes and a shower later, I steel myself to get my head chewed off by my dad. My mother might actually be a bad person, deep down in her core. My dad isn’t, but he sure plays the part pretty fucking well.
“It’s good,” I shrug. “Keeps me busy.”
“Keeps you distracted from tackling your shit, you mean,” he grunts.
“Whatever you say, dad.” I roll my eyes and take a sip of my beer.
“Put that down.”
I frown and look at him. “Huh?”
“The beer,” he mutters. “Enough.”
I stare at him. “Are you serious?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Dad, I’m twenty-one. I bought it, for fuck’s sake.”
He glares at me. “Watch your goddamn mouth. And I don’t care if you bought it or how much of a grown man you think you are. When you get kicked out of goddamn Stanford and move back here, you give up those privileges.”
I roll my eyes, and he snaps. He storms over and yanks the beer out of my hands. I snarl, and I grab it back before stepping away from him.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?!” he hisses. “My problem is you deciding to throw away your damn future and be a goddamn pool boy!”
I glare at him. “I didn’t ‘throw away my future,’ dad. I was proving a point, and the university overreacted.”
“So what now? Just clean pools and mooch off us?”
I frown. “No, dad, the plan is to work on the algorithm and iron out the bugs, and then I can pitch it to Google or something.”
He rolls his eyes. “You want to be a big man, Mason? Then grow the hell up and drop the pipe dreams.”
My jaw grinds tight. “It’s not a pipe dream,” I mutter. “Dad, this thing could change the way people shop online.”
“Yeah, and I might pick the right lottery numbers tomorrow,” he says sighing heavily. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to get that dean on the phone again.”
“No, dad—”
“I’m going to take out my checkbook, and I’m going to fix this the way things get fixed. We’ll give them a library wing or something. You’ll go back, and you’ll major in pre-law, like we discussed.”
“It’s not happening.”
“It goddamn is!” he snaps. “Enough with the computer game crap, Mason! It’s time to grow up! Grow up, become a respectable lawyer just like all the men in our family, and then, you can have that big boy beer, okay?”
I take a long, slow pull of the beer, looking him in the eyes, and he scowls.
“That’s your life, dad. This is mine.”