He turns from us with a scowl, but I disconnect my lips from his sister’s neck and spin. “Hang on, Jack. Come here for a sec…”
A year ago, Jack would’ve told me to fuck myself, maybe he’d have said something rude to his sister, and he’d have ignored my request. But this new Jack spins on a dime and moves back toward us. He’s still a foul-mouthed, attitude-filled, whiny, bratty teenager. But he’s respectful. And when I speak, he listens.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
I slam my fist down on his shoulder and send him stumbling back a few feet.
“Ow! What the fu–”
“Jack! Don’t swear!”
“Don’t text and drive.” I step forward and close the space I put between us. “Not ever. Especially not when you’re driving my girl around. A car is a weapon, and people die in car accidents all the fucking time. You put yourself or anyone else in danger, you lose the car. No second chances.”
He rubs the ball of his shoulder, and with his eyes on the ground, nods contritely. “Okay… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
With a smile, I slap his back and spin him toward the house. “Good talk. Let’s go inside, it’s fucking hot out here.”
“Bobby!”