Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,98

good thing.

The next few days, we settled into a new normal. She made an appointment with the new doc, managing to score a session the following week. And in the meantime, we took things as they came, not looking too far ahead.

It was on my next day off that she decided to go and see her parents. Like Tibbs, they’d been concerned but hadn’t known how hard to push. Presley was notoriously independent. She’d been working in clubs and juggling her course load at college for a solid year before her parents even found out how she’d been spending her nights. She didn’t even apologize, moving off campus and able to afford her own apartment regardless of what anyone thought. So when it came to knowing her own mind, and doing things her own way, Brett and Angela Tibbs knew that better than anyone.

Even more promising was that she wanted me to go with her, the two of us making the drive to the Long Island house I knew almost as much as my own. I’d spent a lot of time there, especially over the summers, so it was weird to be slightly nervous. Of course, the last time I’d been there I hadn’t been dating their daughter, so that was probably why.

“Presley, Leighton.” Angela ran out to greet us before I’d even killed the engine. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Hey Angela, Brett,” I waved, Presley’s dad standing at the door. “Happy to be here.”

Angela ushered us in, fussing over Presley as we went to sit in the living room. They knew—along with my family—that Presley and I were seeing each other. We’d taken turns telling our parents. But after everything that had happened, we hadn’t gotten the chance to experience the insanity that was sure to follow.

Brett looked me over and nodded, which I assumed meant he approved, while Angela was practically levitating. Still, she was more subtle than my mom. When I’d told my mother that Presley and I were dating, I thought she was having a heart attack. Tears, screams, and inaudible noises which I couldn’t really decipher—all ending with both her and my dad telling me how happy they were. Needless to say, if we ever broke up, I was going to be looking for new parents, so lucky for everyone involved I was really in love with her.

“Presley, it’s so good to see you.” The concern in Angela’s eyes was palpable, her voice doing its best to stay even.

Tibbs had told me she’d been struggling, guessing her daughter was going through hell but shutting most people out. It was hard for them—well for everyone really—to believe Presley was fine even if on the outside she looked it.

Presley settled on the couch beside me and I could sense she was nervous. Vulnerability didn’t come easy for her, even with those she loved, but she was trying, and I was so fucking proud of her for that.

“So, I’m going to start seeing a psychologist,” Presley announced, not bothering to make small talk. “I have an appointment in a few days. I know you guys have been worried, but I’m going to be okay.”

Angela’s eyes shot to Brett’s, the surprise evident. “Sweetheart, you know we love you, and we’ll do anything we can to help. It’s understandable that,” she stopped trying to choose her words correctly, “it’s been a challenge.”

Brett nodded, holding onto his wife’s hand. “Yes, it’s been a big challenge.”

“Please don’t do that,” Presley closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “I know you’ve been walking on eggshells, watching what you say around me. And honestly, it’s worse than if you just said what you wanted. I don’t want to be treated differently.”

Vulnerability was one thing, but one of Presley’s fears had been losing who she was. Or who she used to be. Two months ago, no one would have bothered to censor. If they had something to say, they would have said it, even if it was difficult for her to hear. And that was the way she liked it, wanted it, and needed it.

“This is why I didn’t want to come here.” She shook off the arm I had around her and stood. “Because I didn’t want to see that look. Please, if you want to help me, don’t treat me differently. I’m not a baby.”

Angela was also on her feet, looking at Presley like she was a bomb that might explode. “Presley, we know you’re not a baby, we’re just so worried about