Page 25 of Captivating

“I’m not fucking anyone,” I tell them both and sip my wine. “And if you want to go down this road, you better hand me a spoon because I’m gonna need some ice cream.”

Mom pulls a carton of bright red strawberries from her bag and shakes them in front of me. “Where’s your cutting board, Tink?”

I motion to the left of the sink and sit back as she goes to work on the strawberries, praying that’s the last of thewho’s Lilah bangingconversation but knowing it’s not.

“Okay . . .” Dillan snags a berry from Mom and pops it in her mouth. “So . . . going back to youwhat the fucking. . .”

I growl at my little sister. Legit growl.

“Yes,” Mom exclaims. “I heard a rumor today?—”

“There it is,” I announce.

“What?” My beautiful mother looks around, trying to appear as innocent as possible.

Newsflash.

She’s the farthest thing from innocent.

“Oh please, Mom. The smile on your face when you walked through my door meant you were up to something. I just had to figure out what it was. And now I know. So... let me be proactive here. I am notwhat the fuckinganyone. I haven’t been for a long... long... long time.” I turn my eyes on my sister. “Now you, on the other hand. I may have heard a rumor or two too.”

The next strawberry she picks up gets thrown at my head.

“Really?” Mom turns to grab bowls, but Dillan and I go right for the spoons and the ice cream instead.

“Where’s the fudge?” I ask her and smile deliciously when Dillan grabs it from the bag and drizzles it right over the carton of ice cream as I reach across the island with my spoon and drag the strawberries closer. The two of us tap spoons like we used to when we were kids and dig in before Mom even turns around.

“Oh... Okay.” She picks up her own spoon and leans across the island to get a spoonful too. “Okay. You.” She points toward Dillan. “You’re on deck. I want to know what your sister is talking about with you too. But you first.” She swallows her scoop of ice cream and moans—actually moans—then points at me.

“Mom, please.” Good lord. How are we not all more fucked up than we are?

“Sorry. Okay, focused. We heard a rumor today, and I’m going to need you to clear it up.”

I look over at Dillan, like she might be able to telepathically tell me what the hell Mom heard, even if I’ve got a pretty good idea. But you never know. And I don’t really want to give her the Killian scoop if that’s not what she’s talking about. I’ve got to tread carefully.

“Noah and I had the meeting with the label this morning.” I drag another spoonful through the fudge, then dip it in the bowl of berries, hoping my mouthful will give her a minute to answer.

It doesn’t work.

Mom and Dillan wait me out.

Is it better to get it over with and just tell them?

Maybe I’ll test the waters.

“I think it went okay. Not the best but not the worst either.” There. That wasn’t too painful.

“Did it really end with you in an arranged marriage to one of the hottest men in Kroydon Hills?” Dillan reaches out for more ice cream, but I slap her hand away with my spoon.

“Are you insane? Like actually out of your mind?” I pull the entire carton of vanilla bean goodness my way and refuse to share. “You don’t actually believe that. Come on...”

Her evil smile grows like the Cheshire fucking cat.

“Believe it? No. Did I hear it...? I may have,” she admits, and as I sit there with my mouth gaping open, she takes it as her opening to steal the ice cream back.

Twat.

“From who?” I’m aware my voice just increased to a frighteningly high decibel.

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