Page 95 of Never Date A Player
“The counselor said her gambling is a way to fill the void inside her. Mira sees me retreating to spend time with you and she doesn’t know how to give me space.”
“What about your parents? Can they help?”
“They have, but she latched on to me when we were young and she never let go.” He absently rubs the scar on his lip.
It’s jagged and violent looking. “How did you get that?”
He smoothes a lock of hair from my forehead. “I was sixteen. Mira wanted to visit her mom. She didn’t return after a few hours and I was worried about her, so I went looking.” He swallows, his hand stilling. “The door to her mom’s house was unlocked. I heard noises. I walked in and… he was beating Mira, her mother’s boyfriend. Blood everywhere. I thought she was dead.”
He kisses my forehead, breathing in my scent as if to calm himself. “I was tall for sixteen. I ripped the guy off her and punched him in the face as hard as I could—broke his nose. I thought he’d back off.
“When I crouched to help Mira, she was crying. I was so relieved she was alive I didn’t hear the bottle break or see the guy coming, but Mira’s eyes widened. I turned and knocked the glass out of his hand before he stabbed me in the back. A broken edge caught the corner of my mouth.”
I kiss the scar and press my lips to his. “I’m so sorry. I’m glad she had you.”
“It was a long time ago,” he says. “I want her to get real help. I thought she was getting better.”
My eyes scrunch with incredulity.
He blinks and looks away. “Not entirely better, but better than she is now. I’ve dated and she’s been somewhat okay with it. It wasn’t until I met you that I realized she wasn’t okay, not after she saw my reaction to you. She’s scared of having no one.”
He links our fingers and holds them between us. “Genevieve, I—I think I fell in love with you that first night.” He rubs his forehead and smiles guiltily. “Maybe it was lust at first sight. However it started, it’s grown into something I didn’t recognize because I’d never felt this way before. I’m lighter when you’re near, happy. You’re challenging and wonderful, and so beautiful inside and out, it’s blinding. Please, give us a chance. Let me love you.”
I will not cry at that sweet recitation. This conversation isn’t finished. “I’ve never let anyone get as close as you. Don’t keep me on the sidelines. I need to know it’s you and me in this together.”
“Yes.” He presses our interlaced hands above his heart and kisses me until my lower back tingles. “Always.”
He leans over and I kiss him with everything I have. “I love you,” I say. “I missed you so much. This was all I ever wanted. Just us.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I stare dumbfounded at my image in the mirror. “Mom, you’ve really outdone yourself.”
She smiles broadly, a vision of chic sophistication in a cream silk suit Jackie O would have been proud to own. Who is this person? And is she trying to turn me into the old Chantell, because this dress… I raise my hand to tuck, or pull, but there’s really no place to grip without shifting material off essential body parts that need covering.
My mom selected my bridesmaid gown prior to her visit in anticipation of her post-mudder Tahoe nuptials. It’s a fitted, silver metallic, animal print cutout dress with a crisscross top. The sides of my waist, center of my cleavage, and entire back are bare. Oh, and the dress only drops to mid-thigh. I dare not bend over without announcing the color of my panties.
Can I wear this in public? I mean, I’m wearing it because it’s my mom’s wedding day and she selected it, but will I get arrested?
“It’s pretty, Mom.” And it is—the parts of it that exist. I grin and give her a hug. She’s been fluttering around all morning, setting our hand bouquets in water until the wedding takes place, making final arrangements at the restaurant she and Fred reserved for a private gathering with close friends and family. No signs of bridezilla from her, only pure joy.
I’m still angry that my mom kept Jeb away after he got clean, but I can’t blame her for wanting to protect me. You protect the people you love.
Mom and I step out of the limo Fred hired, and Lewis, Cali, and Jaeger are already standing in front of the small chalet-style chapel. The guys are wearing suits, Cali a lilac, clingy wrap dress that accentuates her curves.
Lewis turns and immediately takes in my outfit. His eyes heat, his gaze never leaving mine as we approach.
I know that look. Maybe I should be thanking my mom. The intensity on my boyfriend’s face is all sultry hot guy, and it’s going to be really challenging to wait until after the wedding to take advantage.
Cali bites her lower lip, her mouth straining at the sides as she holds back a smile. “Hey,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Nice dress.”
I glare at her and she covers her smile with her fingertips. “No, seriously, can I borrow it?”
This is the kind of dress Cali would wear. The reason she’s laughing is because I normally wouldn’t. “You are such an ass,” I tell her, and she snickers.
“You look beautiful, Gen,” Jaeger says. Lewis fires him a dirty look. “What? She does.”
“Keep your eyes above her neck,” Lewis mumbles.
