Page 37 of People Like Us

“Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?” August asked as he steered us toward Wyatt ’s house.

I shrugged, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The question knotted my stomach. “I didn’t want to have that conversation with my father.”

He glanced at me, brow arched. “What conversation?”

I stared out the window at the passing streetlights. “He wouldn’t think it was appropriate for me to hang out with other guys while I have a boyfriend.”

August frowned, one hand drumming on the steering wheel. “Does he like Andy?”

My cheeks warmed as I nodded. “He kind of picked him out.”

August erupted in laughter, the sound so loud it startled me. He slumped against the seatback, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he gasped between chuckles, “but did you just say your father picked your boyfriend out?”

A reluctant laugh escaped me. “Yes. We go to his father’s church, and my dad found out Andy plays football and is going pre-med next year. To him, that’s the American-dream son-in-law. So when he told me he was in love with me last year, my dad was over the moon.”

August’s grin grew wicked. “Andy’s dad is the old creep who shoves bread in your mouth?” he’s nearly shouting with amusement.

I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle. “Unfortunately, yes.”

His entire frame shook as he sighed, “That’s so fucked.”

I forced a small smile, though my heart sledge-hammered in my chest. “You have no idea.” I said, though the words hurt to say.

The car jerked as he pulled into Wyatt ’s driveway, and my throat tightened. August’s pinky slid along the leather seat until it brushed mine making my breath hitch. “Do you want a code word in case something goes wrong?” he asked, voice soft.

I leaned back,tracing the veins protruding from his forearm with my gaze. “You mean a safeword?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled, that coral flush creeping into his cheeks. “Yeah, Sin. Tell me your safeword.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Mitochondria.”

He laughed, the sound warm. “How are we supposed to work that into a sentence?”

“Super easy,” I said, slipping my hand into his. “Just say, ‘Hey Lola, remember when we were talking about mitochondria in the car earlier?’”

August tilted his head and offered me a lazy smile. “Alright, fine. Mitochondria.”

I beamed, though butterflies danced in my stomach. He noticed the flicker of nerves and squeezed my hand a little tighter.

“We’re just going to play a game,” he murmured, leaning close. “ It’s a bit complicated, but I’ll explain everything as we go.”

I nodded, heart pounding. I’d read some of the rules already, but the reality of it felt heavy. “I know some.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

I shrugged. “I looked it up in fourth period. I intern in the library, so I get a lot of downtime.”

He leaned closer, voice dropping to a husky murmur. “You looked it up in a book? Or on your phone?”

“A book,” I confirmed, watching his reaction. “There are a few on the shelves.”

August licked his lips, his voice low and rough. “That’s so hot.”

Heat blossomed in my cheeks, but this time it was anticipation, not dread. I inched toward him, my pulse racing. “Wait until you see my character sheet.”

His pupils fluttered wide. He pressed a quick kiss to my knuckles, eyes sparkling. “I can’t wait.”

The smell of competing incense and something like varnish assaulted my senses as I made my way down the steep steps leading to Wyatt ’s basement.