Page 67 of The Torment of Two

“What?” Dempsey demands, humor dissipating immediately.

“We’re, uh, not ready for the whole ‘meet-the-parents’ schtick.” Gemma shrugs her shoulders like it’s no big deal.

Sloane’s eyes narrow as she studies Gemma. “You’re awfully secretive lately. You know you can tell us anything.”

Gemma’s guilty expression gives her away. Before she can continue to dig herself deeper, I throw myself on the grenade for her.

“It’s because of me,” I blurt out and then shove another bite of lasagna into my mouth. “I don’t want to meet them.”

“Oh God,” Gemma grumbles under her breath.

“Why the hell not?” Dempsey demands, fire in his tone.

“I don’t want to.” I shrug, swipe the napkin over my lips, and take another massive bite. “That simple.”

Dempsey’s fork clatters to the plate as he glares daggers at me. “You’ve got a fucking attitude, you know that?”

“Demps,” Sloane says softly, touching his arm. “Chill.”

“It’s not that simple,” Gemma states, rushing in to my aid now. “His parents know our parents. It’s a whole thing. We’re not that serious anyway. No sense in bringing the whole family into our relationship when it may not last the semester.”

I flinch at her words, blinking at her. “Right. Good to know how you really feel, Golden.”

She deflates, hurt pinching her pretty features.

“It is serious, dumbasses,” Dempsey argues. “Don’t play me for stupid. There’s something either of you isn’t saying. Out with it already. Stop bullshitting us.”

Gemma bites down on her bottom lip and shrugs. “It’s not my story to tell.”

Except it is her story to tell.

She is the story.

“I’m seconds from wringing both their necks to get them to talk,” Dempsey utters to Sloane. “Got any interrogation tactics that might be more effective?”

Sloane ignores him, eyes boring into me. I shift under her unnerving stare.

“What’s the ‘whole thing’ between your parents? Elaborate.” Sloane abandons her fork to cross her arms over her chest. “May as well come clean and get it out in the open. Tate says talking—”

My scowl falls away as a grin tugs at my lips. “You see Tate too?”

“He’s my therapist, so yeah,” Sloane says.

“And he’s our soon-to-be brother-in-law,” Gemma and Dempsey both say at the same exact time, creeping me out with their “twin-ness.”

I recover from that to realize the depth of their words. “Wait. Tate’s family to you?”

The three of them nod in unison.

Betrayal burns hot in my chest, licking at my cheeks. The lasagna in my belly roils violently. Was this all some sort of trick? Have they all been playing me?

“You know Tate too?” Gemma asks slowly, eyes darting all over me in concern. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t sense anything other than curiosity in her tone. Maybe they’re not all out to get me and it’s just a huge fucking coincidence. Story of my life. Gemma is a walking, talking example of that.

Scrubbing my palm over my face, I sit back in my chair and look up at the popcorn-textured ceiling. Dad would shit his pants if he saw the ceiling and would have Pops out in no time to scrape it away.

The thought of my parents further sours my gut.

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