Page 99 of Stranger to Love

I rubbed the back of my neck, the heat rising in my cheeks. "Mum... this is Caroline."

I stood there, shifting my weight from one Doc Marten to the other, feeling the crushing weight of my two worlds colliding. It felt too fucking weird, too soon. My house was small, smelling of damp and the medicinal tang of my mum’s prescriptions; Caroline was... well, she was a masterpiece. She looked like she should be at a gala, not standing on my family’s threadbare carpet.

Carrie didn’t miss a beat. She walked over to my mum on the sofa with a grace that made the whole room feel suddenly more dignified. She didn't tower over her; she sank into a graceful crouch so they were eye-level, her expensive dress tightening on her thighs, distracting me from the soft moment.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Carrie said, her voice dropping into that gentle, warm tone I’ve only ever heard in the quietest moments between us. "Alex has told me so much about you."

My mum blinked, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out. Carrie took it instantly, holding it with a steady, respectful strength. "You’re very beautiful," Mum whispered, her tired eyes scanning Carrie’s face. "And very... poised. Our Alex is a bit of a handful, I hope she’s behaving for you."

I let out an embarrassed huff. "Mum, please."

Carrie glanced back at me, a wicked spark of the 'Dr. Vixen' persona flashing in her eyes for just a second before she turned back to my mum. "She has her moments," Carrie replied smoothly, her thumb stroking the back of my mum's hand. "But she’s quite remarkable. You’ve raised a very strong daughter."

The sincerity in her voice caught me off guard. Fuck, something stupid fluttered in my chest. It wasn’t just politeness; she meant it. I watched my mum’s face soften, a genuine bit of light reaching her eyes that I hadn't seen in days. For all her terrifying authority at the university, here, Carrie was being exactly what my mother needed. She was being kind. Something stuck in my throat, and I felt a bit fucking overwhelmed.

"You'll bring her back safe?" Dad asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Carrie stood up, smoothing her dress. She looked at my dad, then her gaze drifted to me, heavy and possessive. "I have no intention of letting anything happen to her, Phil. You have my word."

She reached out and curled her hand around my waist, pulling me firmly against her side. The claim was subtle to them, but to me, it was a bolt of electricity. She was telling them—and me—that I was under her protection now. Fuck, I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about this.

"We should go, darling," she murmured to me. "The driver is waiting, and I believe we have some cocktails to attend to."

"Right. Yeah," I stammered, leaning down to kiss my mum’s cheek. "Bye, Mum. Night, Dad."

"Have a good time, darl! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Dad called out.

"That leaves her quite a lot of room, doesn't it?" Carrie quipped over her shoulder, making my dad grin, clearly pleased with her comeback.

As we stepped out onto the cold, dark street, the door clicking shut behind us, the silence of the night felt different. The posh car was idling, its headlights cutting through the fog. Carrie didn't let go of my waist. She stopped me before we reached the car, turning me to face her in the shadows of the driveway.

"Your parents are lovely, Alex," she whispered, her eyes dark and searching. She reached up, her fingers grazing the lace of my top. "But I believe I was promised a whiskey... and a very close watch on those legs."

My heart did a slow, heavy roll. "You're going to be the death of me tonight, aren't you?"

"Only if you're lucky," she smirked, gesturing for the driver to open the door.

As soon as the car doors shut, isolating us from the rest of the world, I didn't even reach for my seatbelt. I fucking scrambled toward her, cupping her face in my hands and stealing her lips. Fuck. I didn’t have the words for the rush of emotions crashing through me right now—the gratitude, the relief, the sheer awe—so I just used my mouth to tell her I needed her.

Carrie lost her breath for a second, her balance faltering under the sudden weight of me, but she recovered instantly. She pulled me closer, dragging me across the leather middle seat that separated us. I was positive that I ruined her lipstick, but fuck it, I didn’t care. She was so much more than I ever thought a woman could be.

When I finally pulled back, her eyes were closed, her chest heaving. She snapped them open and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, anchoring me to the middle seat beside her instead of letting me retreat to my own window. To my surprise, her lipstick was still flawless—probably some obscenely expensive, smudge-proof brand. Typical. Perfect.

"Thank you," I breathed out, looking at her before quickly trying to fucking pull myself together. I clicked my seatbelt into place as she did the same, giving myself a moment to clear my head while the driver pulled away into the fog.

Carrie laced her fingers with mine, turning to face me. "You don't have to thank me, darling."

I shook my head, insistent. "No, I do. You didn’t have to do that." I let out a small, breathless laugh. "I actually really didn't want you to, but..."

Fuck. I looked at her, and my heart felt like it was too big for my chest. Her eyes were soft, a humoured smile playing on her lips, her face the picture of patience. This—having fucking feelings—was so much. It was a heavy, beautiful weight that settled in my gut every time she looked at me. I still couldn't believe she just met my parents. They were going to grill me the second I was alone with them. How could they not? Fucking hell, a woman like her didn't just show up on our street with a private driver every day. And yet, for the first time in my life, I was actually excited to tell them about someone.

"I know you didn't," Carrie chuckled, squeezing my hand tighter. "I wasn't exactly planning on a formal introduction today." She hesitated, her gaze searching mine for any sign of a lie. "I hope I didn't cross a line, Alex. I would never want to make you uncomfortable in your own home."

"You didn’t cross a line," I said, my voice barely a whisper over the steady hum of the engine. "I don’t know why, but it was... it was perfect."

Carrie’s expression shifted, her eyes searching mine with a terrifyingly sharp focus. She reached out, her fingers tracing a slow, agonisingly soft line across my cheek. Her touch felt like it was pulling the honesty right out of my throat.

"Why was it perfect, darling? Use your words."