Page 118 of You Were Never Not Mine

“I’ll be taking it off later tonight.” He nuzzles the side of my face with his nose, and I dip my head closer to his. “Though you can keep the boots on.”

“Stop.” My protest is weak and I rest my hand on the solid wall that is his chest. “My parents will be here any second.”

“I’m trying to distract you.” He pulls away slightly, concern all over his face. “You’re worried.”

“They’re a menace. The two of them.” I drop my hand from his chest, but he grabs it, lacing our fingers together.

“They can’t be that bad…can they?”

My parents enter the room before I can respond, escorted by one of the servants who works at the house. My mom is bug-eyed as she takes everything in, her head tilted back and I swear I can see her calculating the value of everything in her brain and she’s stumped because she can’t count that high.

I knew she’d react this way. My dad heads straight for the bar, enthusiastically shaking Whit’s hand and practically screaming that he’s so glad to meet him. I can’t even look in their direction. Can only imagine Whit’s reaction to my father and when I glance over at my mom, she’s got a big smile on her face, her gaze landing on me standing beside August, our hands still linked.

I squeeze his hand and let it go as she stops directly in front of me, an actual squeal leaving her.

“Sinclair! My God, aren’t you a sight? Look at you! I love the boots! Are they made by Frye?” She yanks me into her arms, hugging me fiercely, her mouth at my ear as she murmurs, “This house ishuge.”

“Hi, Mom. My boots are Steve Madden and half the price.” I return the hug, disentangling myself from her so I can stand at August’s side once more. “Looks like you made it here okay.”

“Oh, we did. The drive was a little long but the scenery was nice. Your father drove too fast though. He had to bring the Porsche. Wanted to make sure the Lancasters are duly impressed.” Mom swivels her attention to August, her smile wide. “You must be August Lancaster. I’m Jennifer.”

He shakes my mother’s hand, a polite smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh my, you are handsome.” Mom rests her hand against her chest, blatantly taking him in. “When Sinclair told me she was dating you, I found it hard to believe, especially after I did a little googling. What would a man like you see in my daughter?”

I blink at her, stunned she would say such a thing. “Mom. I’m standing right here.”

She laughs, the sound extra loud in the hushed quiet of the room. Even Dad has subdued but maybe that’s because he’s downing the drink Whit just made for him. “You know what I mean, honey. Let’s be real. He's a Lancaster.”

I know what she’s implying, even though she doesn’t say it out loud. The Lancaster family is filthy rich and of a class of their own. What would August see in me?

Everything revolves around money for her. For my dad too, though Mom is worse. She won’t stop shopping. Won’t stop feeding that empty spot inside her that only seems to grow more and more as each year passes. Dad has affairs and buys expensive cars. Mom shops constantly and converts every room she can into a closet.

“Your daughter isn’t with me because of my family’s money.” August’s voice is calm, but I can hear the slight edge to it. The man is pissed. “She didn’t even like me at first.”

“Oh come on, Sinclair! You didn’t like him? Look at him!” Mom waves a hand in August’s direction. “What’s not to like.”

I try to smile at her but it’s impossible. I don’t bother responding to her either. What’s the point? She doesn’t recall the fact that he bullied me in high school and I don’t want to remind her. She might start insulting me even more and that’s the last thing I want to deal with.

“Your house is beautiful.” Mom glances over at Summer, who stops to stand with us. “Thank you for inviting us for dinner.”

“We thought it was only proper to have you over as well as your lovely daughter.” Summer sends me a sweet smile. “We’re just glad to have you all together tonight. Sinclair obviously makes my son very happy.”

“Well, isn’t that nice? I suppose I trained her well.” Mom snort laughs and I want to die. “Are you going to make my daughter an honest woman or what?” Mom asks August, who doesn’t react at all to her bold question while I’m already wishing I could curl up into a tiny ball and disappear.

“Mom. I’m only eighteen,” I remind her through clenched teeth.

“You’re an adult. You can get married. Probably would be smart on your part to do it right away.” And with that statement, she wanders away from us, her gaze greedily scanning the room. Summer follows after her, engaging her in conversation, and I’m grateful that August’s mom is trying. If she was smart, she’d give up now because my mom…

Is a hopeless cause.

I share a look with August, who seems completely unaffected by that humiliating conversation.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive her,” I whisper and he grabs my hand, giving it a quick squeeze before he brings our linked hands up to his mouth. He presses a soft kiss to my knuckles before letting it go.

“Don’t worry about her. It’s fine. She’s fine.”

But she’s not fine. She’s like this for the next thirty minutes as August’s father makes us all drinks and a servant brings out a couple of trays covered in a variety of appetizers. Mom downs the vodka sodas Whit keeps making her and shovels the appetizers in her mouth, talking nonstop to Summer, while Whit asks my father questions about the infamous Jock Rot. Dad goes into intricate detail about the rise and fall of his business, Whit sneering with faint disgust when he describes the symptoms of jock rot, not that I can blame him. It’s disgusting, but my father talks about it with absolute glee. It’s become such a part of his life that he doesn’t recognize how gross it is to anyone else.

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