Page 75 of Covetous

I meet his gaze, my heart in my throat. “I’m in love with him.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Since when?”

I’ve asked myself this question a thousand times, but I’ve always been afraid to admit the truth. “Since…forever.”

Dad chuckles, but there’s no judgment in his eyes. “Can you be more specific?”

I think long and hard about my answer, determined to be one hundred percent honest with myself. I used to think it was crazy to love someone I barely knew, but now I know better. Love doesn’t always make sense, but that doesn’t make it any less real.

“Since I was sixteen years old,” I say, the words feeling right as they leave my lips.

Dad doesn’t react the way I expect him to. Instead of making me feel silly, he seems to understand. Maybe it’s because he knows Victor stood up for me, or maybe it’s the sincerity in my voice that convinces him, or maybe it’s because he, too, knows what love at first sight feels like. Whatever the reason, I can tell he’s already forming a positive opinion of Victor. And I’m certain he won’t judge Victor for his tattoos, considering he has his own ink from his younger days.

“When can I meet him?” Dad asks.

A smile spreads across my face, warmth blooming in my chest. “Soon. Very soon.”

“Good.” He nods, digging into his pancakes with renewed gusto. “He and I need to have a talk.”

I tilt my head, my brows furrowing. A talk? I never thought I’d see the day when my dad would be playing the protective father role. It’s a side of him I’ve always longed for, and now that it’s here, I can’t help but feel a rush of affection. “Okay,” I say, my smile growing wider.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The last time I arrived at the James mansion, it was for Stella’s birthday party. Back then, I was just Isabella’s friend. Now I’m also Victor’s girlfriend. It’s amazing how much can change in just a few weeks. If someone had told us we’d be having Sunday dinner with his family, we would’ve laughed in their face. Yet here we are, dressed in our Sunday best, fresh from church with my dad—yeah, that actually happened—about to sit down for a weekly dinner that Victor hasn’t attended in years.

I smooth down my rust-orange dress, the delicate lace trim grazing my knees as I adjust the thin straps on my shoulders. My heels click against the driveway as Victor and I walk up the entryway to his porch. He’s so handsome in his gray suit, the intricate tattoos crawling up his throat peeking through the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt.

“Are we late? What time did you tell them we’d be here?” I ask, fidgeting with my glasses.

Victor takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. “I didn’t.”

My head snaps to his. “What do you mean you didn’t?”

“I didn’t tell them we were coming.” He grins, a mischievous glint in his piercing blue eyes.

I slow to a stop, suddenly unsure. There are a few cars parked out front, probably belonging to his family members. But I’m just a guest. They’ll be thrilled to see their “prodigal son” back home. But what about me? “Is it okay that I’m here?”

“My mom loves you.”

“But she doesn’t know about us. Does she?” As far as I’m aware, my dad and my siblings are the only ones who know we’re together. I finally confessed to Yasmine and Niko, expecting their judgment, but received their understanding instead. Niko wanted to break Ian’s nose, but after begging him not to, he finally calmed down.

If anyone else really digs into Esme’s social media posts, with all her vague comments about backstabbing friends and two-timing exes, they might put two and two together. It doesn’t help that she unfollowed both of us—something I should’ve seen coming, but it stung anyway. It’s been tough, really tough, losing her as a friend. The tears I’ve cried over losing her friendship are innumerable, and Victor doesn’t have a clue.

“She doesn’t know. But Quentin and Fatima both know—and Conner.”

“Conner Brathwaite knows about us?”

He shrugs. “It came up during his tattoo session.” That means Novalee knows about us too—being his wife, and all. I wanted to be the one who told my friend but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Victor stands in front of me, cupping my face with his free hand. He leans in, and his lips meet mine in a sweet kiss that quickly turns heated. Our tongues dance as he pulls me close, my body molding to his.

Since Esme kicked me out, I’ve moved back home with my dad, but on most nights, I find myself at Victor’s place. It’s been tricky sneaking back home after a night of hot sex, but so far, I’ve been in the clear of my dad finding out. Not that my dad is the strict type, but that doesn’t mean I want him to know anything about my sex life. Gross.

I can’t wait to move into my new apartment. Just one more week.

Reluctantly, I pull back, not wanting to put on a show, just in case someone’s watching from one of the mansion’s many windows. “Not here,” I whisper, running my hands up his arms and sliding them around his neck.

Victor cracks a smile, his fingers brushing against my pearl necklace as he gives it a delicate tug. “You’re so fucking adorable and polite.”

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