I stare at Landon's father, taking in his appearance. He's drunk, that's obvious from the stank of his breath and the way he wobbles on the porch. He's also missed a few showers. My eyes flicker to the brown bag in the inside pocket of his open jacket.

"Sure am," I smile sweetly, not one to resort to good manners when I've just been called a whore. I don't care if he's Landon's father, he won't be pushing me around. "And are you the drunken piece of trash that won't leave his son alone?"

He narrows his eyes at me, the cool gray far from the warm silver of Landon's. "I wouldn't talk to me in that tone, missy."

"It's Miss Alderidge to you," I say, crossing my arms. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"That's none of your business," he snarls, taking support from the railing as his legs waver.

"It is when you're standing on my doorstep," I tell him, my face hard. I can't believe Landon has had to deal with this man for years.

"Step aside, little girl."

"No," I steady my stance.

He takes a step forward, blasting me with alcohol breath. He's way taller than me, also wider, but I hold my ground. "I'm here to take my son home and some little bitch ain't stopping me."

"We'll see about that," I narrow my eyes at him, trying not to gag. "I'm not scared of you."

"Pretty but stupid, I see," he snarks. "My son has always had a poor taste when it comes to girls."

"We'll just have to agree to disagree," I quip, raising a brow.

"I suggest you go get my son, or you will regret it."

I pretend to think. "Nah, I'm good, thanks." Okay, maybe antagonizing an angry drunk twice my size isn't exactly smart, but I can't seem to hold my tongue.

He darts forward surprisingly fast considering his drunken state and grabs my ponytail. He yanks my head back and towers over me. "Stupid bitch," he growls into my face, hurting my scalp. "You should learn your place."

I wince, for the first time really afraid, and instinct kicks in. I knee him in the stomach, hard. He groans and doubles over. I take a quick step back, my heart hammering against my chest.

"Who is it?" Landon comes to the foyer, probably wondering why I'm taking so long. His face goes slack when he sees his father. He takes in the scene, his eyes darting from my now loose ponytail to his father grunting in pain. The muscles in his face twitch and his jaw goes hard. He steps in front of me, staring at his father with pure anger in his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, son," his father wheezes. "Met your slut," he laughs nastily. "Feisty."

"Get the hell out" Landon spits, taking a hold of his father's arm and dragging him down the porch steps.

"Is this how you treat your father?"

"It is when you show up out of the blue and threaten my girlfriend."

My heart does a flip. Girlfriend?

"I'm your family."

"Not anymore," Landon looks tired, as if he's gone through this numerous times before. He probably has. My heart aches for him. "So just leave before I call the cops on you."

His father mumbles something inaudible and Landon grabs the cuffs of his jacket. He brings his face inches from his father's and snarls something I can't hear, then shoves him away and turns his back on him.

Mr Hayes stares at his son's retreating back with a sour expression, but starts walking down the street. Landon takes a hold of my arm and leads be inside, closing the door behind us. He leans against the door and sighs, the lines of his face hard.

"I'm sorry," I wince, hugging him. His arms go around me and I take in a deep breath of his familiar scent.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about."

I swallow. "Actually, I do," I look up to meet his eyes. "I edged him on. I could've handled it better."

"He would've said whatever he said anyway," he squeezes me. "It's not your fault."

"Is he... is he always that violent?" I hesitate to ask.

He closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, the gray is like cold steel. "Ever since he started drinking, yeah. He used to beat me up almost daily, until I finally stood up to him and hit him back. It didn't take him long to learn I'm stronger than him." His fingers go to the elastic band in my hair and he gently pulls it off, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. "He never should've touched you."

"Yeah, well, I got him back," I grimace.

"I'll make sure he'll never come back," he promises. "He will never touch you again."

"I know." I believe him. "So, a girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes soften and he seems a bit embarrassed. "Uh, that just came out," he explains and I bite back a smile. "I know we haven't talked about it. And there's no pressure to," he hurries on, clearly nervous about my reaction.

I put a finger on his lips, quieting him. "I'm not going to bolt."

"You're not?" he looks way too hesitant. I guess I can't blame him.

"No," I roll my eyes. "Now, let's go eat. I'm sure Nate's already wondering what the heck is taking us so long."

"He probably thinks we're here making out or something," he jokes, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. I know he's still thinking about his father.

I press a soft kiss on his lips. "So let's go release him from his misery."

The next few days are uneventful and soon the weekend has arrived. Landon's father hasn't bothered us again and Landon's mood has improved day by day.

"Let's go out tonight," he plays with my hair while we're laying on a couch.

"I'm down," I smile. "Where?"

"Bowling?"

"If you can handle losing," I grin widely.

He scoffs, "As if. You're looking at the bowling champion right here."

"Is that so?" I stifle a laugh. "Because I remember beating you on more than one occasion." That was when Nate had for the past few years dragged us to go bowling and golfing and whatnot with him and Sophie, trying to get us to come along. It hadn't worked. Who would've guessed all it took was for us to sleep together.

"You should probably get your memory checked," he counters, puffing his chest.

"Mhm, whatever you say," I tap the tip of his nose. His eyes take on an amused glint and he kisses my cheek.

"Aren't you two just sickeningly adorable?" Nate walks into the living room, Sophie in tow. They're both holding large bowls of popcorn.

We sit up to a less compromising position and glare at him playfully.

"Come on, hunnybunny" Landon helps me up, smirking at his friend. "Let's go cuddle somewhere else."

"Deal," I grin up at him and grab a handful of popcorn from Nate's bowl as we pass.

"No funny business!" Nate yells at our backs. I let out a giggle and squeeze Landon's fine ass, earning a disgusted groan from my brother.

"You're hopeless" Landon shakes his head at me, grinning like an idiot.

"And proud of it."

Instead of going somewhere to cuddle, we grab our coats and head out, taking my BMW to the bowling place.

We rent shoes and an alley, and get to it. We're pretty evenly matched, neck-to-neck in points. I'm kind of afraid I'm actually going to lose.

"I'll go get us some food," I holler at him when I move out of the way, having just scored a strike. He nods, picking up his bowling ball and moving to position.

I make my way to the counter and greet the girl behind it, ordering two large cokes and fries.

"Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?" a blond guy maybe a few years older than me leans against the counter next to me, a little too close to my liking. His brown eyes ravage my body, not even trying to hide it.

I roll my eyes. Seriously? "Not as much as this conversation."

He frowns, and I can see a bunch of guys laughing not that far off. His friends, probably. Doesn't stop him from trying again.

I can't help but inwardly groan when he opens his mouth again.

"C'mon, I think I could make you very happy." He leans in closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. Oh here we go.

I look at his hand pointedly. "Why? Are you leaving?"

His eyes narrow, his face taking an ugly turn.

"You're a bitch," he spits. I guess no one's ever told him "no."

I pretend to wipe spit off my face. "Yes, I am. Now fuck off." I shake off his hand before Landon decides to meddle, and turn away to get my food.  I pay for it and quickly head to our table, where Landon is already eyeing someone over my shoulder, his eyes narrowed.

"You okay?" he growls.

"I'm fine," I take a sip of my coke. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

He looks me over. "I'm sure," he grins. I know he couldn't have heard anything this far away, but I'm sure he saw enough to guess. I just hope the guy doesn't come back.

Landon leans down to peck my cheek. "Your turn."

---

Landon ends up winning, barely, and he's having a field day with it.

"Are you done gloating?" I groan as we're walking to the parking lots. It's already dark, since it's almost ten in the evening. And since it's Saturday, we pass more than one already-drunk person on our way.

"Nope," he grins, taking my hand. We walk hand-in-hand and pass a group of guys sitting and drinking on top of a car. I can already see mine in the yellow glow of the street light, maybe thirty feet away.

"Hey, sweetheart!" one of the guys lifts up a beer bottle in a salute, and with a start I recognize him as the guy with poor pick-up lines. Oh shit. "There room for you in here. You can sit on my lap, like bitches do."

Landon's shoulders tense and I don't answer, hurrying my steps. Not today, I pray.

"Just ditch your date and come hang with us. I promise we're better company," the annoying guy continues, standing up and taking a few steps to our direction. Landon grits his teeth.

"Come on, babe, I know you want to," he grins drunkenly, his self-esteem up the roof. I spare him a disgusted glance and fix my eyes on the red BMW. Not far away now.

The rest of the guys stand up as well, sending hungry looks in my direction. I know what they're thinking, and I can tell Landon has figured out the same thing. His jaw is set as he pushes me behind him, taking backwards steps toward my car.

The pick-up guy laughs at him. "You think you can keep her to yourself, do you?"

Landon doesn't answer, knowing better than to edge him on. I grip his arm as he continues moving backwards, shielding me. The guys follow us. Adrenaline shoots up my veins and I just know shit is about to hit the fan.