I grab groceries from the trunk of my Mini Cooper. I shake my head with a wry smile. He’s a seventy pound overprotective lap dog. He’s not fooling anyone.
I grab the last bag from the car and catch Connor’s eye. The turmoil in his gray gaze shocks me. He looks away, jaw working.
Is he embarrassed? I didn’t think he cared what the world thought of him.
His mom gives me a shrewd once over, hyper aware of my presence. When she speaks again, she regulates her tone, sounding kinder. “Why don’t you come inside, sweetheart? Dinner is almost ready.”
I’m gripping the bag of flour and sugar, debating with myself. Don’t get involved. But I can’t ignore it, can I? It might not be my place to intervene, but damn it, the look on Connor’s face like he’s the only one in his corner hooks my insides and tugs hard. I won’t stand by while he’s hurting.
Not when I know how hard it can be to deal with parents.
Setting the bag of ingredients on the hood of my car, I cross the driveway to stand at his side. Constantine follows, laying down in the grass in front of my feet.
“Hi.” I take Connor’s hand and kiss his cheek, rising on tiptoe to reach. Turning to Mrs. Bishop, I wave. “I’m Thea. Connor’s girlfriend. I live next door and go to school with Connor.”
He’s stunned silent, watching me from the corner of his eye. I’m standing so close, I feel it when his chest caves with the force of the relieved breath hissing out of him.
Okay, maybe that was rash. Oh my god, why did I kiss him in front of his mom before introducing myself? I clutch his hand tighter.
Mrs. Bishop’s eyes narrow slightly, taking me in with a once over. I can’t help but feel she’s sizing me up and finding what she sees lacking.
Connor drops my hand, but before I can run to hide for being silly and intervening, his arm wraps around me, almost clinging to me. He’s strong and warm, engulfing me in his rich earthy scent.
“Well,” Mrs. Bishop says. Her eyes dart around the empty street. “We’re having a family discussion before dinner.”
“Mom,” Connor snaps. He rubs my shoulder, hugging me close. His voice is hard, but his touch is gentle. “Thea is my girlfriend. She’s my date for tomorrow night.”
Mrs. Bishop’s lips purse and she exchanges a look with their family friend. I’ve heard his name before—something with a D? She turns her attention to Connor, crossing the lawn to inspect me closely. She stops a short distance away, glancing at Constantine as he pops his head up. The vibe between her and Connor is charged.
Instead of cowering into his side, I put my arm around his waist so we’re a united front, lifting my chin as she sniffs. That’s a bitchy non-response if I’ve ever seen one, worse than my mom’s false-sympathetic hums.
“You said I needed to bring my girlfriend,” Connor says smugly. “Remember? Over that nice meal you were preparing with Damien.”
The way he says Damien is almost a growl.
“I didn’t realize the neighbor girl is who you were planning to bring.” Mrs. Bishop folds her hands in front of her. “I thought you were seeing Nina Goldman. Or was it Anette Rossi?”
Popular girls far more perfect for me, ones that hang out with Connor’s crowd and come from money, status, and power in Ridgeview. Not me, a nobody.
The effect of her dismissal is…wow. Is this what it’s like to appear polite while silently screaming fuck you?
Message received.
Message shredded.
Putting on my sweetest smile, I lean into Connor’s side. “We’ve only been dating since school started, but we have a really special connection.”
Her eyes flash. I can see where Connor gets his haunting gray eyes. His are impossible to look away from. Hers are just disconcerting. It doesn’t impress her, I guess, since I’m talking back.
I see you, Mrs. Bishop. I know what kind of woman you are.
Hopefully Connor doesn’t mind I used the timeframe from when I first texted him. Mistakenly, but whatever. It’s the truth.
“The heart wants what the heart wants. Doesn’t it?” Connor snorts, caressing my arm. I don’t shy away, melting into his touch. “I’m sure you and Damien agree.”
If I thought she was intense and intimidating before, it’s nothing compared to the deadly look that crosses her face now. Nothing changes about her plastered on smile, but the edges twist and shake, hinting at what lurks beneath.
Constantine remains on alert,