Page 116 of You Were Never Not Mine

“No.” I slowly shake my head, taking a sip of the bourbon Dad poured for me. “She’s told me stories though. They have that typical new money attitude.”

“Ah, Christ. They’re probably going to be salivating over us all night, right? I sound like a dick, but those types? That’s what they usually do.” Dad shakes his head.

“Don’t be a prick, Dad.” I can say this to him because he knows that sometimes, he acts like a massive dickhead. We can’t help it. It’s part of our DNA. “Just…try not to let them bother you. I need you on your best behavior. I don’t want to upset Sinclair.”

My father watches me for a moment, amusement dancingin his eyes that are so much like mine. “Well look at you. Caring about someone else for a change.”

I know I can be a selfish bastard but it sucks when your father calls you out for it. “I’m trying to be a better person.”

“You’re not a bad person, son. You’ve just been wrapped up in your own bullshit your entire life. I get it. I was the same way. Then you find someone who wrecks your plans and changes your entire outlook.” He sends me a measured look. “And now you’re forever changed.”

“Wrecks your plans? I never knew you were a Swiftie, dear father of mine.” Iris appears out of nowhere, standing right beside me. When I send her a questioning look, she explains. “Those are lyrics from one of her songs. Well, kind of. Close enough.”

“I am not a Swiftie.” Dad appears positively offended. “And I thought you went in search of your mother and Sinclair.”

“I couldn’t find either of them.” Iris shrugs, unbothered. “I’m sure they’ll make an appearance soon.”

Nerves eat at my gut, which is not normal. I don’t give a shit about impressing people but with Sinclair’s parents? For whatever reason, I want them to like me. I want their approval and that goes against everything I normally care about.

Maybe Sinclair did wreck my plans—for the better.

Chapter Fifty-Two

SINCLAIR

There’s a knock on my door and I assume it’s August coming to fetch me. I’ve taken far too long to get ready and make sure I look the part of August Lancaster’s girlfriend—it’s hard for me to believe that he actually thinks of me as his girlfriend—because I’m nervous. And anxious—terribly anxious. I don’t want my parents to act tacky, AKA like their usual selves, and ruin the evening. I’m desperate to make a good impression.

This is the most nerve-wracking night of my life, and I’ve lived through some harrowing moments since I first met August. He’s put me through it. I’ve put myself through it too because despite it all, I’m forever drawn to him. To finally have the confirmation that he feels the same way is a relief. An absolute thrill. He cares about me. He said he was in love with me.

What is this life?

Opening the door, I’m about to say something, but I snap my lips shut when I see who it is.

August’s mom.

“Hi, Sinclair.” Her smile is gentle, as is her entire demeanor. Her calm vibe seems to permeate the room every time sheenters it. She has this soothing effect on her entire family and I like that about her. Probably because I find she calms me too. “I was hoping you were still in here.”

“Hi.” I stand there clutching the door handle feeling awkward. I really need to learn how to relax. My worry over tonight could make everything worse. “Am I running late? Are my parents here?” I assumed Mom would text me the second they pulled through the gates. But maybe not.

“No, not yet. May I come in?”

“Of course.” I open the door wider, taking Summer Lancaster in as she enters the room. She’s effortlessly elegant in her simple black dress, her dark hair cascading down her back in soft waves. You’d never believe she’s the mom of three and that her youngest child is in high school. I can only hope I look that good when I’m a mom.

I shut the door and turn to watch as she settles into the pale blue velvet chair in front of the small desk in the room. She aims a friendly smile in my direction and I automatically smile in return. “You’re nervous.”

There’s no point in denying it. “I am.” I even wring my hands together, letting it all hang out since she called me on it. “Tonight feels like a big deal.”

“I can’t lie—it is a big deal. August doesn’t bring just anyone home. My son…he’s always been such a private person, rarely allowing someone into his life. He likes to think he doesn’t need anyone, which reminds me of his father.” Her gaze settles on my face and it feels like she’s trying to examine me, see through my skin and bones, into my brain. “You must be a special person in order for August to bring you here for the weekend and introduce you to all of us.”

Swallowing hard, I scramble to come up with the right thing to say. “I care about August. A lot.”

“I can tell. And he cares about you too. I like watching the two of you together.” Her smile fades the slightest bit. “I knowhow…difficult August can be sometimes. He’s very much like his father, and when I first met Whit, our interactions were unconventional, to say the least. Neither of them are good at expressing their feelings.”

The biggest understatement of the year. “August has mentioned to me before that he’s a lot like his father.”

A sigh leaves Summer and she shakes her head. “I’d hoped my firstborn wouldn’t be like that, because I always believed Whit’s behavior stemmed from being raised by two neglectful parents. I did everything in my power to ensure that our children never felt like we didn’t care, and August still ended up acting just like his father. I suppose genetics are difficult to change.”

“I suppose so,” I agree, unsure of what else I can say.

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