Page 9 of Never You

But proposing right now? That freaks me the fuck out. I’m not even sure I want to get married. Marriage reminds me of my parents. If that is called a marriage? Happily ever after? Till death do us part?

Fuck no, I’ll pass.

“Not anytime soon,” I mumble,grabbing the fresh drink from the bar. I take a sip, welcoming the feeling of the liquid burning through my chest. The searing sensation doing a good job of pushing the panic to the back of my head.

“She called to ask youthat?” I ask when he stays quiet.

Knowing it’s my mother, there must be more. Kathleen Jensen always wants something. When she gets you to agree on one thing, you better prepare for whatever else she still has up her sleeves.

“That,and if you could hurry the fuck up because she wants to book the venue for the engagement party.”

“Engagement party?” I blurt, louder than I intended.

My eyes alarmingly flash around to make sure nobody heard me. The last thing I need is for TMZ to announce my engagement tomorrow. An engagement that won’t happen in the first place.

“When you will be coming home,” Bodi continues, unaffected, “and what you would think of a September wedding.”

“It’s July?!” I screech, my panic attack coming back at full force.

I look at Bodi with widened eyes, my heart now jumping out of my chest for a whole different reason than before. The smirk on his face tells me he’s enjoying this way too much.

“The woman is insane.”

“She isyourmother.” He chuckles.

“An engagement party? A September wedding?” I move my head closer to Bodi’s, making sure no one overhears. “She doesn’t even bother to ask if Iwantto marry. Fucking crazy woman. She is out of her mind.”

I slightly shake my head.

My mother has always been controlling, telling me no,forcingme to fall in line. I always have, scared that if I don’t, she’d put all her attention on my baby sister. Who as of right now, is still enjoying high school as a normal teenager instead of being prepped into my mother’s daunting footsteps. Well, as much as normal can be when you’re living in a penthouse in New York and going to private school.

But this time she’s taking it to another level. You can tell me to be somewhere, to wear a suit and act accordingly. But telling me to get married? And when? That one is new.

It’s also not going to happen.

I stay quiet for a while, feeling the panic being replaced by irritation boiling up inside of me. It pisses me off.A lot.I’m so sick of my parents bossing everyone around. Bossingmearound. They may have married to enhance my father’s career, knowing appearance is everything in politics, but that doesn’t mean it’s whatIwant.

I glance at Bodi when I feel his worried gaze on me. I know he doesn’t like my mother, this being the main reason. He butts heads with her all the time, pissing her off every time he gets the chance. But he supports me, stands by me, like the selfless friend that he is, even though he always questions why I do what she says most of the time.

“What the fuck did you tell her?”

His face lights up and a smug grin stretches among his cheeks, telling me I’ll probably enjoy whatever comes out of his mouth next.

“I told her you’d probably burn the house down to avoid ever coming home if she would dare to ask those questions again.”

A smile splits my face. “My hero.”

Then he adds with a straight face, “I also told her the Botox must have damaged her brain if she thought your wedding was going to be a high society event. Then she started yelling and swearing all kinds of things. It was quite entertaining.”

Snorting to keep my drink in, I laugh, my eyes locked with his in admiration.

“She really went all in after I told her your wedding would probably be in Las Vegas. Or some southern barn. If there would be a wedding at all. I think I mentioned something about how you’d rather have a baby out of wedlock than ever get married.”

He keeps a stoic face. “She yelled something about Emily never going for that and then, after I asked her who was talking about Emily, I couldn’t make out any more words, so I hung up.” He downs the rest of his drink like a pro and turns his body toward the bar with a satisfied smile on his face, as I try to catch my breath, unable to stop laughing.

“You're welcome.”

“You are going in my will, you’ve earned it,’’ I joke when I’m able to breathe again.

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