“Pissed is not a curse word, Thomas.” I grab my purse and head for the door.

“And don’t call me Thomas—I am your father.”

I roll my eyes like I’m fifteen. “You can’t tell me who to be friends with.”

His cosmetically enhanced dental caps grind. “That man uses women and throws them away—you’re a diversion and nothing more.”

Wow. Just…wow. “What are you trying to say, Dad? Spit it out. That I’m not good enough for him, or that he just wants to have sex with me a few times before he dumps me? That I can’t trust him because he’s a piece of shit? One you hired, I might add.”

One you pay millions of dollars.

“I’m saying he couldn’t possibly be interested in a serious commitment when his commitment is to the Steam.”

I’ve heard enough. It’s not what he’s saying that stings; it’s that the things he’s saying are thoughts I’ve already had. Hearing them from my parent is a mental slap I didn’t want to experience. Not when I was already filled with so many doubts.

Trace is not with you because he is using you, Trace is not with you because he is using you, Trace is not with you because he is using you.

I repeat it three times.

He isn’t.

Buzz likes likes me. I know he does.

“For the record, Dad, we haven’t slept together, and we haven’t gone on an actual date—we are friends. So you can go to bed tonight and sleep easy.” I am stomping toward the door in a huff.

“Get back here—we are not done with this discussion!”

“I’m not one of your lackeys. You can boss Fiona and Lucian around, but you can’t boss me around.”

“I can and I will.”

That gives me pause, and I turn. Narrow my eyes. “Even if I didn’t want to date Trace Wallace, even if I didn’t want to be friends with him anymore—that is my decision, not yours. He is a great guy, and we’re having fun. Remember what fun is, Dad? F-U-N. That’s it. We’re not having sex and it’s not romantic, but if it were, I doubt I’d tell you. I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation.”

I still can’t believe it when I’m halfway down the hall, or when I’m pounding on the elevator buttons, willing the damn thing to move faster so I can get the hell out of this building.

It’s suffocating me.

The door opens and I step out, eyes on the ground—the polished concrete floor of the ground level.

Dammit! I’m on the wrong floor. Why does this always happen?

Try paying attention for once, I chastise myself.

My eyes go from my phone to the tips of my cute, black shoes…to a solid, masculine chest.

This time when I look up, it’s not Trace I see, as I did the last time I got off on the wrong floor.

It’s Marlon, and he has his hands on my arms to steady me.

Gag.

Could this day get any shittier? I am not in the mood for this.

“I assumed you missed me, but I didn’t think you missed me this much,” Marlon rumbles with a chuckle, the vibrations from his chest a familiar sound. “I won’t tell Wallace if you won’t.”

I step back and out of his arms, revolted. “You’re a pig.”

“What?” His hands go up defensively. “I didn’t say anything perverted, just said I wouldn’t tell your fake boyfriend if you don’t. You know you miss me.”

“What would make you think that? Have I called you? Have I texted you? Have I slid into your DMs? No. The second you took my car for a spin was the second I was done with your ass.”

I try to step around him, but he’s tall, and big, and makes it impossible. “I’m not trying to fight with you, baby girl. I’m just trying to talk some sense into you.”

“Sense? Oh Jesus, do not call me baby girl—the jock chasers you pick up at the club might think it’s a cute nickname, but I don’t.” I pause. “And speaking of chasing, let’s cut the crap, okay? We both know I’m not your type. The only reason you pursued me was so you could date the general manager’s daughter.”

There. I said out loud what I’ve been speculating, except this is the first time I’m acknowledging it to him. Marlon has the audacity to look stunned by the declaration.

“Hollis, babe—you know that’s not true. I screwed up, okay? You can’t hold it against me forever.”

Yes. I can. “We are not together. Get out of my way, Marlon.”

He doesn’t move. “Did you tell your dad about any of this?”

I knew it! I knew he was only in it for my father!

“No, asshole. I didn’t tell him we went out, let alone dated.” Thank god. Because if Dad is upset about me befriending Buzz Wallace, I cannot imagine what he would think about me having dated Marlon Daymon, the Steam’s biggest playboy. Thomas would not only have been disappointed, he would want to kill me. “I’ve had it with men today—get out of my goddamn way.”