Before & After - Nazarea Andrews Page 0,49

choked little noise that worries me, but we’re pulling up to the steakhouse. She takes a deep breath as the valet approaches, and I glance at her.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get it over with.”

She shoves the door open and slides down without waiting for me, and I follow suit, taking the valet ticket and slipping it into my pocket while following her inside.

“Party for Senator Collins,” she says to the hostess. The girl nods, snapping to attention as she leads us deeper into the restaurant.

They’re sitting at a table in a back corner, surrounded by other empty tables. A man in a black suit eyes me as we approach, but doesn’t try to stop us.

Peyton’s shoulders are back, and her smile is stiff as she pauses, hands on the back of the chair. “Mom. Dad. Good to see you.”

The senator is a tall man with broad shoulders, sharp eyes, and Pey’s freckles. Her mother is softer, curvy with a wide-eyed innocent smile that screams fake, and a power suit that would make Hilary Clinton jealous. And they’re watching Peyton with something like disgust in their eyes. Shock. That’s what it is.

“Well. That is certainly a different look, sweetheart.”

Peyton touches her hair and gives a smile. “Like it, Ma?”

“Not particularly,” comes the stiff reply.

“Pity,” Peyton coos, sugar sweet and I swallow a laugh. She tucks her hand into my arm and tugs me forward a step or two. “I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Rike Johnson.”

Their eyes swing to me, and the younger dude lets out a startled laugh. “Damn, Tay. Did you pick him to piss them off?”

“Fuck off, Brody,” she says lazily, and for the first time since we arrived, a real grin tugs at her lips as she flicks a glance at her brother. He laughs, a soft noise that reminds me of her, and some of the tension eases from her shoulders. She pulls a chair out and sits, and motions for me to do the same, putting me between her and her brother, away from her parents.

Who are still staring at me like I’m a devil bent on pillaging their daughter’s virtue.

“Nice to meet you,” I say with a small smile.

They stare, and the senator blinks once, then focuses on his daughter. “What the hell is this?”

“My boyfriend.”

“No.” He doesn’t even argue. Just a flat no, like she should care about what this prick has to say.

“Do you think we can order drinks before we start in on how Pey has fucked up her life?” she says, and my heart hurts. She doesn’t ever change her tone. It’s classic defensive Peyton.

A puzzle piece of the enigmatic girl slides into place. I glance at her, at the pleasant smile, and I get it, suddenly.

“What the hell are you trying to prove with this?” Collins hisses.

“I’m not trying to prove anything. It was never about that.” She turn to me. “What do you want to drink?”

A very petty part of me wants to ask for a beer just to fuck with her folks, but her big eyes are pleading and desperate, and I remember suddenly that she is only here because I threw a bitch fit this morning.

“The Talbot pinot noir,” I say, flashing a quick smile at the hovering waitress. She gets the rest of the orders, and scurries away.

The senator is looking at me instead of his daughter now, which has to be an improvement. I push up my sleeves and his eyes tighten at the sight of the colorful tattoos tracing up my left arm. I meet the hostile smile with my own. “Good to meet you, sir. Peyton has told me a lot about you.”

“Note that he didn’t say it was good shit, Dad,” Brody says.

“Well, I do try to avoid lying. My mama raised me well,” Peyton deadpans and Brody laughs, shaking his head.

“We didn’t realize you were dating, Peyton,” Mary Anne says.

She leans back, and I feel her hand on my back, a steady pressure. I don’t know if it’s for me or her, but it’s soothing. “We’ve been together for over six months. And before you ask—I’m not hiding shit. I’m living my life. You haven’t bothered to ask or visit, so excuse me if you aren’t up to date on who and what is important in my life.”

“You made it clear when you left for UT that you didn’t want us involved in your life,” Mary Anne says stiffly.

“And you’ve always been so fucking good at listening

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