“What’s the matter?”
My father is here-he whispers and sighs.
“Relax, I’ll tell everything about us,” he murmurs, and I swallow hard.
“You don’t need to,” I say with a shrug, and he laughs while pulling me into a hug.
“But I want to, not because I have to,” he replies, kissing my cheek.
Then he settles into his old chair and calls out to everyone back to the room, including his dad. I fiddle with my fingers, watching him, unable to shake one thought:
He’s going to kill Alex if he finds out we’re together.
Meanwhile, Alex continues his work, looking completely unbothered. He talks about sales and import-export statistics, and I can’t help but admire him.
He looks incredibly handsome while he speaks. And he’s mine.
“I think that’s all for today,” he concludes, nodding to everyone, who promptly leaves.
I notice his father looking confused at Alex, then his gaze shifts to me. I avert my eyes, playing with my hair.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, but I realize he’s not speaking to me.
“Son, it’s been years since I last saw you,” his father states quietly, and Alex rolls his eyes.
“I have a lot to do, Gilbert,” he replies. “My mother complains about it too, but I have to manage my business.”
I see him clutching his documents tightly and feel a wave of courage.
“Son, I get it, but family should always come first…”
“You never did,” Alex dismisses it with a shrug. Gilbert sighs, studies Alex for a moment, then turns to me.
“So, who are you?” he asks, making my heart race with nervousness.
“Nina Moore,” I say as I reach out my hand, which he shakes warmly.
“Gilbert Gray,” he replies, a slight smile forming on his lips.
“Nina is my girlfriend,” Alex states, and I gulp as Gilbert frowns at me.
“But I thought…”
“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” Alex cuts him off, and I can practically feel his nervousness radiating toward me. I sigh.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Gray!” I exclaim as Alex urges me out of the room.
I gasp at the strength of his grip, though he seems unaware of it.
“Daddy, you’re hurting me,” I say, and he sighs.
“Baby, I need you to go along with this, okay?” he asks. My frown deepens.
“Alex, I have my own brain and legs, I can follow you without being pulled,” I respond, and after considering my words, he releases me.
“I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.
I give a slight nod, feeling I have no choice, and we climb into the back of the car. The driver heads toward the airport. Once we arrive at our destination, Alex and I quickly board his private jet.
“Lyra, a whiskey please,” Alex requests, and the flight attendant nods.
As I settle into my seat and buckle up, the jet starts to move, and Alex continues to steal glances at me.
“I don’t have a great relationship with my family, as you might have noticed,” he says with a slight smile.
“Yes, I have noticed,” I reply, licking my lips. “Alex, your father seems like a decent man. If only I had had the…”
“First impressions don’t mean much, Nina. You need to really get to know people instead of relying on what you see at first,” Alex interjects, and I frown, crossing my arms and staring out the window.
“At least you had the chance to grow up with a father,” I say through clenched teeth, fighting back tears.
“Are you crying?” he questions, but I shake my head, continuing to look outside.
“It’s nothing,” I insist. “Just water, that’s all,” I add harshly, seeing the confusion on his face.
“What have I said to make you talk to me like that?”
“Nothing!” I retort quickly, trying to meet his eyes before turning back to the window.
We are flying high in the clouds, and while I enjoy the view and being with Alex, I can’t ignore how he treats his parents.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, unbuckling himself to sit next to me. I turn my back on him as he gets closer. “What have I done?”
“I’ll tell you everything!” I snap, and he looks taken aback. “I’ve opened up about my father and my situation with my mother and her new spouse. I can’t understand why you treat your parents like enemies.”
“Excuse me? I’m the only one taking this relationship seriously. I don’t hide it,” he shoots back, and I scowl.
“I’m not hiding it either!” I protest.
“Oh really?” he challenges, shaking his head. “Does your mother know we’re dating?”
“I’m not going to tell my mother that I’m seeing a guy eight years older than me who I sleep with!” I retort, feeling frustrated.
I’m too riled up to calm down.
“Why not? If he was your age, you surely would have told her, and with pride,” he says sarcastically.
“Of course not!”
“Yeah, right, Nina. You’re not fooling anyone. I know you’re using me-whether for my money or something else-and we both know the only one feeling anything here is me,” Alex asserts, revealing a hint of pain in his voice.
My heart races and breaks at his words.
“I can’t believe you think that about me. Do you really think I’m just after your money?” I feel the sting of tears coming.
He stares at me for a few moments, then runs a hand through his hair and shuts his eyes.
“Baby, we should calm down,” he whispers.
“Go to hell, Justin.”
“Dear…”
“You shouldn’t call someone who you think is using you ‘dear,’ don’t you think?” I shoot back, shaking my head in disbelief. “I think your mother is right-nobility shouldn’t mix with the bourgeoisie,” I whisper as he rolls his eyes.
“Your mother seems quite conservative,” he observes, as I look out the window again. “Honey, I’m sorry for snapping. I didn’t mean to say all of that. I love you, and you know it.”
I slowly shake my head, searching his eyes.
“I think you should think long and hard before saying you love me,” I say. “You don’t love me; you just want me.”
He laughs, and soon his hand intertwines with mine.
“Look me in the eyes,” he urges, but I glance away. “Baby, please,” he murmurs, and I resign to facing him.
“What?”
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he growls, making me roll my eyes.
“Hey, don’t stop looking at me,” he insists, turning my face to meet his gaze. “I can’t believe we’re already having our first fight and it hasn’t even been a day since we became official… Just because of my parents,” he laughs softly, sighing.
“I’m sorry,” I say, touching his face as he shakes his head. “I just… I really am.”
“You can tell me anything,” he murmurs as I gaze into his emerald eyes.
Those eyes bring me comfort, love, and this overwhelming feeling that Alex has more control over my emotions than I do.
“I just hate how you treat your parents like enemies,” I confess. “It’s obvious they love you and miss you. I don’t get why you act this way.” I shrug, feeling lost. He kisses my hand tenderly.
“Alex, if I had the parents you do…”
“You really don’t know my parents,” he clarifies, letting out a sigh.
“I never had a father, and my mother was hardly ever home,” I tell him. “I never had anyone to be jealous over boys with, to help me carry heavy things, or to tell me I was beautiful. No one to defend me when kids teased me about my pigtails back in sixth grade,” I murmur, feeling emotion choking me. “Alex, you have both your parents trying to be there for you, yet you push them away. If they’re against me, then I’ll happily walk away to ensure you don’t lose that opportunity. As much as it hurts me, remember: parents aren’t forever. Nothing is.” I whisper, and he kisses me.
I kiss him back for a moment, but then he pulls back, nodding.
“Okay, I’ll talk to my parents if you promise to come with me back to Holmes Chapel and Paris,” he shrugs. I sigh, feeling a smile creep across my face.
“Of course I will,” I reply, leaning in to kiss him, feeling his hands warm against my thighs. Suddenly, I frown. “Didn’t you ask for a whiskey?”
“Oh, right…” he whispers. “Lyra! Where’s my whiskey?” he calls, and the flight attendant approaches him nervously.
I feel a flush creep across my cheeks as Lyra serves Alex whiskey on the rocks before retreating to her seat and closing the door behind her.
“Every good debate ends with a whiskey,” he jokes, shrugging. I roll my eyes.
“Did you notice there’s a seat next to me, yet on the way here, you chose to sit in front of me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods.
“I was worried if I sat right beside you, things might get too heated,” he admits, and I chuckle.
“You’re such a pervert,” I tease, and he raises an eyebrow.
“I may be, but I’m not the one with wet panties,” he retorts.
“Of course not! You’re not wearing boxers.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” he shrugs.
“Alex, we just had sex less than two hours ago. Trust me, I know you’re not wearing boxers,” I say knowingly, and he grumbles.
“You ruined my joke,” he complains, but I can’t help but laugh, and he adds, “You’re still the one with wet panties.”
“And you’re the one with a hardened cock,” I retort, accompanied by a smirk.
“With great pride,” he says, and I laugh, shaking my head.
“You’ll be 26 soon,” I say, stroking his chest gently.
“Four more years until the big 30,” he snorts, glancing serious. “And you’re still not married or with kids?”
I eye him, perplexed, noticing his jaw tense.
“Let’s not dive into that conversation,” he whispers, pulling me into an embrace.
I raise my eyebrows. If that topic bothers him so much, I can’t help but wonder why he’s still with me.