Page 70 of Just a Friend for the Lion
A fucking stud.
Yeah, that’s what every son wants to hear from his mother.
When I was younger, I ignored it. Pretended it was just her way of being old-fashioned.
But now? Now that I’ve found my mate?
It stings like hell.
Because what I wanted from her wasn’t advice, or Pride gossip, or another reminder tospread my seed.
I wanted her to be happy for me. To be proud. To see me.
But no. She still cares more about her social standing than the fact her son is on his knees—figuratively and literally—for the one woman who makes him whole.
So yeah.
Processing my disappointment in my mother? Not happening right now.
She doesn’t deserve another second of my time.
Not when MJ’s out there thinking I’m just some faithless prick who can’t keep his pants zipped.
No, right now all I care about is proving to my Pretty Pizza Girl that she’s mine.
Not because my Lion says so.
Not because of some stupid tradition.
But because I love her.
And I will fight for her.
Even if it means sitting out here with my stupid daisies until she finally looks me in the eye.
Chapter 23
Carter
Finally, someone unlocks the front door toPizza Girlsfrom inside.
I exhale hard and push through the front door, bells jingling like this is some quaint romcom and not a war zone waiting to happen.
Inside, the ovens are hot, the counter’s clean, and the smell of marinara makes my stomach growl.
The only thing standing between me and forgiveness?
Her sisters’ mates both with matching scowls and blood in their eyes.
“Doug. Horace,” I nod tightly.
Doug crosses his arms.
“Carter.”
Horace doesn't even speak.
He just stares.
