Page 36 of Not A Whisper

“Naw, fuck that. I've seen enough of your ugly mug.” Trip’s arm slips around my shoulders, and he leans over to nip at my earlobe. I shoulder him away but he only chuckles. “I want to see what our doll’s been hiding from us.”

Our eyes meet and my heart somersaults at the heat blazing in their deep, dark depths.

“I haven’t been?—”

“Forthcoming? Yeah, I know. Therefore, you’ve been hiding it. Grant showed us pictures of your office. You got enough paper in there to have destroyed a forest.” Trip’s gaze hardens, challenging me to argue with him. “Hiding anything else?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic. If you were around more, you would’ve known what I was up to. I wasn’tactivelykeeping it from you.”

The solid point doesn’t stick with him. Trip hums as he slouches in the seat, “Honestly, I should fucking punish you for hiding your new fucking hobby from us. We could’ve been working on it with you.”

“Get punished for a hobby I picked up tohelpyou? Thatseems unfair,” I point out, my eyes narrowing on him even as my thighs press together and my heart leaps with excitement at the thought.

Jason chuckles. “While I disagree about being punished, I have a feeling you’d take it like the good doll that you are.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling but there’s no hiding it. Trip chuckles and nips at my ear again. He leans closer and runs his lips down my neck. I close my eyes to savor the touch. Can he feel the bumps that rise along my skin, trailing after his lips? A hand lands on my left upper thigh. Its weight is welcomed and comforting.

“Our parents loved you, dollie,” Jason says. His hand squeezes on my thigh.

I suck in a shuddering breath and lean away from Trip before I get too wrapped up in the moment.

“You think?” I glance over at him to find those dimples back in full force.

“I’m pretty sure my mom wanted to keep you there.”

Trip snorts. “Dad was head over heels. Pretty sure you bewitch everyone you talk to, dollface.”

I can’t tell if they are just pulling my leg or not, but I smile all the same. Is it weird to feel proud of myself?

“Glad you came?” Jason asks.

Am I glad I met Luane and Carlos? Absolutely. They are some of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. But still, I feel off-kilter. This was a move forseriousrelationships. Not just flings or girlfriends. My stomach knots uncomfortably.

“Am I the first woman you’ve brought to meet your parents?” I ask, rather than answer his question. “For either of you?”

Jason nods. “Yup.”

“Feel special?” Trip asks mockingly.

Special? I think about this word, turning it over in my head.Given that their parents knew their nickname for me, I assume it’s because they hear it a lot. Which means the guys talk about me often. Over the past month and a half, I’ve been quietly hurting at their absence. But during that time, they’ve been thinking of me. Talking about me to the people that mean the most to them.

My heart swells ten times over.

But uncertainty lessens my joy. I feel so out of control with how things are going with us that I don’t feel like I’m standing on solid ground. They’vejustdecided to come around again. We haven’t even been on a proper date. How have we skipped that and gone straight to meeting the parents? And what do they now think of us? Are certain expectations now set on our shoulders?

“I guess, yeah… It kind of feels weird though,” I hedge slowly. “I know nothing about us is conventional, by any means, but it doesn’t seem like we’re at the meet the parents phase just yet.”

Trip’s arm tenses around my shoulders at the same time Jason’s hand grips my thigh a little tighter.

“What does that mean?” Trip demands.

I roll my eyes, shooting him a rueful smile. “Don’t play dumb. You know this is super early to be doing something like this.”

“Dumb?” He scowls. “Dumb? Are you calling medumb, dollface?”

Feeling emboldened by the way the evening went despite my reservations, I feel the desire to celebrate. And what better way than to get Trip all worked up? Turning all the way toward him, I move my leg carefully so as to not hit the clutch and shift to straddle my tattooed bad boy.

His scowl eases as his brows raise and his pupils narrow. “You think you’re going to get out of answering that question?”

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