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"Why is it when I’m trying to avoid you so that we don’t draw attention, you choose to do the opposite?”
He gives me a lopsided grin. "Guess I’m just a rule breaker.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile. “What do you want?”
“Oh, Flower. You have no idea how much of a loaded question that is. Did you really expect me to sit across the room and watch that dickhead smile and flirt with you?”
“He wasn’t flirting with me. We were conversing. There’s a difference.”
“As long as he doesn’t touch you or get any ideas about fucking with you, then we’re fine.”
“First, there is no we. Second, I'm a big girl, Drew. I don’t need you to be my protector.”
He grabs me by the waist and tugs me into his chest. The air wheezes from my lungs, and I feel his hot breath against my lips. “There has and always will be a we. If you don’t believe me, I will lift you by the ass, set you on that giant-ass oak table, and make certain everyone watches as I devour you from the inside out.”
I shiver at the territorial tone of his voice and the image of what he described.
“You wouldn’t dare!” I hiss, not even believing my own words.
His green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Oh I would, Flower, and you know it, so don’t tempt me.”
“Fine, but that’s not the real reason you came over here, right? It wasn’t to act like a caveman and show ownership, right? Because you should’ve just pissed in a circle around me.”
“I’ll be sure to do that next time.” He leans forward, and his lips brush the corner of my mouth. We shouldn’t be this close, and he definitely shouldn’t be kissing me. Not because it’s wrong, but because it's drawing attention.
I can already feel other’s eyes on us, and I hate it. It’s like being under a microscope.
“I’ll be sure to do that next time, but right now, I need you to come with me for a few minutes.”
I take a step back and he lets me, releasing his hold on my waist. "Where to?"
“Trust me?”
“Are you joking? Your track record has been less than stellar, Mr. Marshall.”
He smirks. “Good thing you don’t have an option, then.”
Grabbing my hand, he interlaces our fingers, then tugs me behind him as he leads me through the foyer. Everyone is immersed in conversation or drinks, and the few gawkers from earlier have moved on to someone else.
A nervous ball of energy forms in the pit of my stomach, and Drew’s gaze swings around the room almost as if he’s checking for witnesses. We stop at what appears to be a broom closet door that’s hidden under the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I whisper the question as he opens the door, tugging me inside behind him, his hand heavy in mine. The smell of dust tickles my nose, but it’s a welcoming scent.
“It’s a surprise,” he replies gruffly.
I’m momentarily blinded by the darkness as we cut through a long hallway. Seconds later, he releases my hand and grips the brass handles of a set of double doors. Bright light from the other side blinds me for a moment, and I blink a thousand times to get my eyes to adjust.
On the other side, I’m greeted with quietness. Minus the soft snoring emitted from a nurse who I spot resting in the corner and the soft beeping of hospital monitors.
The blood in my veins becomes ice, and my muscles clamp up.
Memories assault. My mother. Dying. Her cold hands. The tears that stained my cheeks. I force a ragged breath into my lungs and swallow the pain down.
It’s okay. It’s over now.
I often remind myself that grief is the price you pay for love.
With a gentle hand to the small of my back, his fingers splayed across my bare skin, Drew ushers me forward. "I know it’s not the standard way of meeting parents but it’s all I could offer you and it’s important to me, so here we are. I want you to meet my mother."
