Page 104 of You Were Never Not Mine

“Thursday night,” I stress, scratching my bare shoulder. Yes, I’m naked and yes, we just had sex and it was amazing as per usual. “When do you want to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. You don’t have class and neither do I and we can beat traffic if we leave early enough,” he explains, sounding completely logical.

Me on the other hand? I am feeling completely irrational at the thought of leaving tomorrow to go meet his freaking parents. “You haven’t given me enough time to prepare.”

“What is there to prepare for? Pack some clothes and whatever essentials you need to bring and we’ll leave.”

“How are we getting there?”

“My car.”

“You have a car here?” I had no idea.

“Not recently. But I just received my new car Monday night.” He smiles. I swear his teeth shine in the darkness. “Had it delivered and everything. I upgraded to a new Porsche.”

Oh God. My dad would love to get his hands on that, I’m sure. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Your car? Or going to your parents for me to meet them?”

“Both.” He sits up, grabbing hold of me so I have no choice but to sit in his lap. “They’re going to love you.”

“Maybe,” I hedge, nerves eating me up inside. What if they don’t? What if they don’t approve? I am the daughter of the inventor of Jock Rot. That’s not prestigious at all. And these Lancasters tend to pair up with people who are on the same level, and I am not even close to their level.

“They are. My mother already does.” He says it with such finality I can’t help but get caught up in believing him. He slips his arms around my waist and tugs me closer so that I’m sitting directly on top of his now erect dick. “Why do you look worried?”

“I am…me.” I tap my fingers against my bare chest and his gaze drops to the spot, lingering on my naked breasts. “And you are—” I tap the center of his chest. “You.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He sounds offended and that’s cute. It really is. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get it.

“My dad invented jock anti-itch cream. Your parents?—”

“Fell in love despite the fact that my mother’s mother had an affair with my father’s…father.” He grimaces. “It’s a complicated story.”

My jaw drops. “You made that up.”

“No. I didn’t.” He dips his head, his mouth on my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses across my skin. “My dead grandmother despised my mother. Hated her guts because she represented the woman her husband had an affair with. My family is fucked up. Just like yours.”

I close my eyes, sucking in a breath when his hand settles on my breast and gives it a gentle squeeze. “But they’re rich.”

“So are yours.”

“Old money is better than new money.” I’m shaking at the way he thumbs my nipple, toying with it.

“Old money is—different than new. It’s not necessarily better.” He removes his hand from my breast to cup my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Come home with me. I’m dying for them to get to know you.”

“Why? Is this some sort of trick?”

An irritated noise leaves him and he gives my face the slightest shake. “What do I have to do to make you believe me when I say that I’m serious about this. About you.”

I blink at him, overcome. My throat is thick with emotion and I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s declared his undying love for me, but this is close. August isn’t great with emotion and neither am I so that makes us quite the pair. But for whatever reason, it works. I care about him.

I’m falling in love with him, and it’s scary.

“I want you to meet my mother.” He leans in and kisses me, his lips still on mine when he continues to speak. “My father. My brother and my sister and that bumbling idiot she might be married to. Oh and their monster baby.”

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