Page 69 of You Were Never Not Mine

“Where’s Brooks?”

“At work.”

“He works?”

“For his father, yes.” A sigh leaves her and she tilts her head to the side, her blonde hair cascading past her shoulder. “We’re living our lives over here, August. Brooks is working and I’m taking care of the baby. We don’t have the luxury like you do of having fun at college and going on dates with random women.”

I’m older than her by a few years and she’s making me feel like an idiot. I don’t like this. At all. “It’s Sinclair Miller. That’s who I’m going on a date with.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Are you fucking serious? The girl you bullied and tortured her entire freshman year agreed to go on adatewith you? Has she lost her mind?”

“She’s forgiven me for my past sins.” Has she? I have no idea. I’ve never apologized to her for what I did, but that was so long ago.

“Well, isn’t she the bigger person.” Iris squints into the camera. “You’re really going out with her?”

“Yes, and it’s happening tomorrow night so I need ideas, Iris. Now,” I snap.

My sister laughs at me because she’s got me by the literal balls and there’s nothing that I can do about it. “Do you want to impress her?”

“Aren’t I impressive enough?” I’m a Lancaster. I’ve impressed her with my dick and all the things I can do to her with my fingers and mouth. What else is there to impress her with?

“Oh, Augie. You’re hopeless.” Iris shakes her head. “Of course, you want to impress her. You need to take her somewhere in the city. Like the most popular restaurant there is, though you might have a hard time getting a table if your date is tomorrow? Hmm, and it’s on a Thursday—that might be your only saving grace.”

“It was her first night available.” I swallow whatever else I might say that makes me sound eager and ridiculous. “And I can get a table at any restaurant in Manhattan. All I have to say is my name when I make the call.”

“True. Well, you should pull out all the stops. Like, fly her in on the helicopter.” Our father recently acquired one. That’s a good idea. “Take her to the most buzzed about, expensiverestaurant in the city and put on the charm. Can you do that? Put on charm? You’re never charming to me, but I’m thinking you might have it in you. Daddy is charming and you’re a lot like him.”

“I can be charming.” Maybe. I don’t have to work hard at trying to charm anyone because everyone I encounter pretty much bows at my feet. I put in zero effort and always have their respect. “You need to give me a list of the best restaurants. I don’t have a clue.”

“You have Google,” she points out.

“Yes, but that’s not the same as you knowing what’s out there. I trust your opinion, Iris, though maybe you don’t get out as much as you’d like.” I’m starting to sweat. She might’ve been a bad choice, but what are my options? I suppose I could ask Rowan or Willow. But Willow doesn’t even live here anymore. She’s too busy chasing after her football playing fiancé, and Rowan is in high school doing stupid high school things. Why would I ask him for advice?

“I’ll compile you a list. Brooks and I do have a social life, despite what you think. We go out often because Mom always wants to watch the baby for us.” Iris taps her pursed lips with her index finger. “Let me think on this and I’ll text you a few restaurant names.”

“I need the names now.”

“I know, I know,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Always so impatient.”

“Hurry.” I end the call before I do something stupid like thank her. If I’m polite and grateful she’ll definitely think something is wrong with me. Though maybe there’s no point in playing it cool. Something is definitely wrong with me.

And her name is Sinclair Miller.

Chapter Thirty-Two

SINCLAIR

I’ve been a jumble of nerves since my encounter with August in the library. His brutally honest confessions left me on edge and I still can’t believe he’s taking me on a date. Like he’s what…serious about me?

No way.

Maybe?

Probably not.

He finally reached out Wednesday afternoon and told me to wear something sexy but classy. That was his only guidance. I freaked the hell out because of course I did. I am almost nineteen years old and the last time I wore something that I thought was sexy, he continuously insulted me and made me feel like I dressed like a cheap hooker.

I’m not good with sexy, clearly. Classy I can do. I spent enough time around the other girls at Lancaster Prep that I know classy when I see it. My mother would be no help, because she’s as tacky as they come. God love her.

---