Page 43 of You Rock My World
Dorian’s hand finds my elbow, his touch grounding me, steadying me.
“My family is not a beacon of happily ever afters,” I add with a faint, self-deprecating laugh.
He gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Josie.”
I shrug. “It’s life. We’re doing okay, all considered. These dinners help.”
He’s thoughtful for a beat, then says, “So, let me come.”
Something pinches in my heart at the eagerness in his voice. “You want to meet my family?”
He juts out his lower lip in a pout that’s both cute and devastating. “Why not? I’m great at meeting the parents. Sandy Parker’s mom still sends me a card every Christmas.”
“That’s adorable. Do you send her a signed headshot in return?”
He grabs me by the hips and nuzzles my neck. “Always with the sass.”
I laugh at the tickling sensation while also going hot in several places. I flash him a goofy grin. “And yet, here you are, asking for more.”
“I am.”
Dorian is so blunt, so unapologetic. His directness makes my heart trip all over the place. “My family is intense. Are you sure you want to meet them?”
He doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”
I’m about to say okay, but then I frown. “Wait, how can you go to a regular person’s house?”
Dorian’s eyes crinkle. “I’m not a vampire, Josie, I won’t even need to be invited in to cross the threshold.”
I scold him, suppressing a smile. “Be serious. We can’t have paparazzi swarming my mom’s house. Or anyone know about us.”
“If you want me to come, I can manage that part.” He gives my sides a little squeeze. “I’ll just need some basic information about the layout.”
“Of course I want you to come.”
His gaze turns searching. “Can your family keep a secret?”
I consider it, then nod. “If you handle the security side, I’ll take care of my family’s big mouths.”
“Then it’s settled.” Dorian grins in a way that makes my insides melt. “I’ll be there.”
I extricate myself from his arms but don’t make it halfway across the dressing room before he grabs my hand and pulls me back.
Pop Rocks light up in my belly as he presses a soft kiss to the pulse point on my wrist.
“I can’t wait.”
“Me too,” I breathe back, my vocal cords not cooperating.
On impulse, I get up on tiptoe and stamp a quick peck on his cheek, then flee the dressing room before I kiss him again, and not so innocently this time. As I walk down the hall, I rub my wrist where his lips have left an invisible brand. If mere hugs and pecks to the wrist have this effect on me, what will a real kiss do?
* * *
A few hours later, I’m marching in front of my family like a lieutenant before her battalion. Mom, Lily, Aunt Moira, and Penny sit lined up on the couch, watching me with varying degrees of amusement.
For the third time, I repeat, “You cannot tell anyone I’m sort of dating Rian Phoenix.”
Aunt Moira huffs as she turns to my mom. “Betty, darling, show me a picture of this man.”
