“Jared.”
I stop at the door and look back, arranging my face into what I hope is a pleasant expression.
“Yeah?”
“It would just be awkward with my parents-”
I wave my hand. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’ll stay out of your hair. Catch you later.”
I walk out, leaving my bludgeoned heart flopping around on her living room floor.
But there’s nothing that can be done. I did this to myself.
And to her.
I have no one to blame but myself.
Angelina
Jared isn’t at my place when I get home. Nor does he show up before I go to bed. My stomach is in knots.
I’m pretty sure I offended him.
I was trying to keep him from my parents for his own sake-because they can be rude, arrogant, judgemental assholes. I don’t want them to judge him.
And I know they would.
They’d take one look at the beefy arms covered with tattoos and write him off as a Hell’s Angel or something stupid like that.
They would never look beneath the surface to see the amazing man he is. The caring, considerate, thoughtful, charming guy who only seems to want to support me. And fuck my brains out.
And I would hate-absolutely die-if they were rude to him.
So it was for his protection that I didn’t want to invite him over to meet them.
But I keep remembering what he said after we visited my grandma.
You thought she’d hate me.
He already believes this about my family. And in my parents’ case, it would be true. But God, I don’t want him to feel like I think he’s less than. Just because my parents are stuck up foothills assholes doesn’t mean they’re better.
I stand at my window looking out. As if he’s going to pull up on that sexy motorcycle any minute.
Even though I know he’s not.
How do I explain this to him without making it worse? Yes, I thought my parents would hate you, but I’m not hiding you from them, I’m hiding them from you.
Not sure he’d believe that.
And dammit-I shouldn’t have lied when he asked where I was going. It only made it seem so much worse. I should’ve tried to be super upfront, right from the beginning. Hey, my parents are jerks and I’d be embarrassed for you to meet them, so do you mind if I don’t introduce you?
Damn. I don’t know. Should I try to text him? Try to explain? Or will I just make this rift deeper?
Wow, we really are Romeo and Juliet. My parents and his pack are keeping us apart.
I rub my eyes, nauseated.
Of course, to make matters even darker, dinner was the absolute worst ever. Or maybe I’m just noticing more now that I’ve had Jared fluffing me up for a week. It seemed like all I heard from my parents was what and who they wanted me to be.
My mom went on about my weight and how I’m looking a little doughy. My dad wouldn’t stop about the cocktail party next Sunday and how he needs me to be there to meet the bigwig Jackson King.
It’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. Who needs their daughter to stand around and look pretty to close a business deal? In what reality did he cook up this role for me?
And yet I feel the chains of bondage from them as if I am the maiden locked up in the castle, ready to be sold by her father to increase his land shares. Maybe in other lifetimes I was. Maybe we’ll keep repeating this interaction until I finally stand up to them and tell them I’m not their puppet.
But the thought literally throws me into quicksand. They’re my parents. I’m their only child. They’ve supported me-financially, maybe not emotionally-for my entire life. They still pay my tuition and room and board. I teach classes for my spending money. Is it fair or right for me to dig my feet in?
What’s the big deal about one stupid charity cocktail party anyway?
Except the thought of putting on a dress and attending their party next week feels akin to cheating on Jared. Seeing my parents again without mentioning Jared feels like a betrayal.
Even though he and I aren’t even supposed to be a couple, I’m locked in tight with him. And I don’t want him believing he’s anything less than a freaking hero to me.
I square my shoulders and turn away from the window.
I’m going to introduce him to my parents. I don’t give a shit what they think. I’ll warn him that they’re assholes and that I’m embarrassed of how they might treat him, but I’ll stick by his side. Jared is too amazing to be bothered by them. It’s my behavior that bothered him, and I can fix that.
I pick up my phone and text him. I miss you. I wish I’d brought you to my parents’. Are you coming over?
He texts back immediately. It’s all for the best, baby. Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.
Well, shit. There’s a note of distance in his text that sets alarm bells clanging in my head.
But maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Texts can be weird that way.
I sure as hell hope that’s all it is.
Jared
Is it totally backwards that even as I contemplate letting Angelina go, I’m trying to make myself worthy of her?
I sit across the desk from our pack attorney-who is also Garrett’s mate-with my knee bouncing up and down. It’s been over twenty-four hours since I’ve seen Angelina and the hole in my heart is getting larger.
I have to take some action, do something to try to make my life respectable.
“Listen, I was thinking about those kids-all the foster kids you help. Maybe the older ones?”
“Yes?” Amber wears polite pleasant expectation on her face. She’s classy, this one, even though she’s a product of the foster system herself.