Jordan Cavanaugh lay sprawled on the couch in a loose T-shirt, the smell of eggs drifting from the kitchen in Mack’s apartment.
Mack poked his head out from behind the counter. “You planning to live here now, bro?”
Jordan groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t start.”
Mack grinned. “You’ve been avoiding your old man for what... three days now? You really think Williams won’t find out you are hiding out at my place?”
Jordan sat up, brushing a hand through his hair. “I am not hiding, dude. And that man can’t force me to stay under the same roof with him. I just need space. He breathes control. He has to stop expecting that I do every damn thing he says.”
“Yeah, but he is your dad,” Mack reminded him. “And you, my friend, are avoiding confrontation like a toddler hiding from a dentist.”
Jord
