A groan rattles in my chest. Whoever is walking into my house like they fucking own it is not welcome. I’m pissed at half my family right now, so this meeting won’t fare well.

“Callum?” a deep voice calls out. “I’ve been texting you all damn day. What the hell, man?”

Heavy footsteps thud into the living room, revealing Hugo’s tall form. He’s wearing a suit as though he’s been at the office on a Saturday. Sometimes he’s so much like Dad, I can hardly look at him. Right now, though, it’s how much he resembles his son that has my blood boiling.

“Get out,” I snap.

Both of his brows rise in surprise at my sharp tone.

“Hangover?” he asks, ignoring my demand for him to leave. He settles into an armchair and sprawls out. “You usually only act this bitchy when your head is pounding.”

“What do you want?” I scrub my palm over my face, noting the dark hair along my cheeks has grown in rougher from not having shaved today. “I’m not in the mood for chitchat.”

He snorts. “I’m not here to chitchat. I’m here to discuss the bratty twins and my reckless son.” A huff escapes him. “I appreciate you bailing them out last night. Spencer is grounded forever. It’s still a shit storm because of where the party was, but at least we don’t have three more Parks to add to the buzz.”

“There’s buzz?”

“If you’d stop ignoring my texts,” Hugo complains, “you’d know this already.”

Guilt trickles through my veins. I’d wanted to break up their fun, not get Hugo and his campaign involved. “I’m sorry.”

He studies me intently, blue eyes narrowed and piercing. It’s no wonder he’s a good attorney. He doesn’t miss much.

“It’ll pass,” he says after a moment. “My campaign manager has some community speaking engagements this week I’ll attend in an effort to redirect the focus. Annoying that I even have to do this, but necessary. Now, can we talk about why you look like someone stole your puppy?”

His words are a kick to the nuts.

“You won’t go away until I tell you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Might as well spill.”

Sighing, I sit up on the couch and run my fingers through my messy hair. “I broke up with my girl last night.”

His lips curl downward and familiar concern flickers in his eyes. “I knew you were seeing someone who was more than just a fuck buddy because of how you’ve been acting, but I didn’t realize just how much you liked her.”

“I don’t,” I lie, voice like acid. “Not anymore.”

He frowns. “She hurt you.” Not a question. A statement. “Like Jamie.”

For fuck’s sake, am I that obvious?