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She whipped back around, smiling hopefully.
No, Roan… don’t do it. Do not be a good person right now. Do not—
“Why don’t you come with us?”
Fuck! Why? Why?!
He squeezed my hand and I forced a minuscule smile to my face.
* * *
For being late,the restaurant was still bustling. Silverware clinked on china and there was a constant hum of conversation. All of it grated on my nerves.
“So... this is nice,” Laurel said with the fakest smile I’d ever seen. She kept smoothing out the same crease in the tablecloth, over and over and over.
Roan snorted some sort of agreement, drawing lines in the condensation on his glass of water.
Laurel cleared her throat and turned to address me. “Do you work at the theater too, Sasha?”
Was she fucking kidding me? Did I look like I worked for a fucking theater? “No.”
“He’s in private security,” Roan said offhandedly. It wasn’t a terrible lie, but I was surprised he came up with it so quickly. Unless that’s how he justified my “job” in his brain. It sounded a lot better than trying to describe what I actually did, at any rate.
To avoid being pressed for any further details, I took a sip of my vodka.
Laurel smiled. “How nice. Too bad Roan didn’t know you a few months ago. You sure would have come in handy during that bank robbery.”
The vodka slid down the back of my throat prematurely. A trail of fire snaked down the center of my body, right into my lungs. Sucking in a breath, I tried to stifle a cough as quietly as I could, despite the fact my eyes watered so much I couldn’t even see.
Roan slapped me on the back. “Breathe!”
Turning away from him, I coughed behind my closed fist, inhaling a little bit of air at a time. Of all the ways I imagined I would die, choking to death while dining with my lover’s mother was not on the fucking list.
“So, um, how did you two meet?” Laurel asked, glancing between us.
Roan didn’t answer right away. He kept rubbing small circles on my back, his brow creased. Apparently once he was convinced I wasn’t going to drown in vodka at the table, he looked at his mother again. “We, um… On campus, actually. It’s a long story. Pretty boring, really. Right, Sash?”
“Boring,” I ground out, nodding in agreement and swallowing thickly, wiping my face with the back of my hand.
“Well, I think it’s nice you found someone older than you for a change. More settled. You’ve always needed someone mature, honey. Not like Pierce.” Laurel sighed, shaking her head.
“Mom...”
“Or Wyatt.”
“Mom.”
“Or that one boy who—”
“Mother!”
Laurel blinked, tilting her head, her diamond and pearl earrings swaying with the movement. “You don’t have to yell, Roan. I’m right here.”
“Can wenottalk about this?” He lowered his voice, saying a hell of a lot more than the words that actually came out of his mouth. To emphasize his point, he threw a cautious glance at me and startled when he realized I was watching him. Oh, there were questions alright. There werea lotof questions.
Before any of us could speak again, Phillip Sinclair’s voice broke the tension. “What the fuck, Laurel?”
She spun in her chair, beaming up at her husband with an extra dose of fake positivity. “Phillip! I’m so glad you made it.”
