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I look down and I’m not wearing anything she’s never seen me in before, “Clothes.” I say, drawing out the word.
Maxwell chuckles, “Leave her be, Sophie. She’s fine.”
“Perhaps we should go shopping for some clothes that are more…appropriate. More you.” Mom states.
“This is me,” I say, waving my hands toward myself.
“Sophie. Seriously. If Adelya wants to go shopping, you’re more than welcome to go, but her attire is fine. Let her express herself how she sees fit.” Maybe living with Maxwell won’t be so bad. “However, Adelya, I will expect something a little more polished for dinner parties and such.”
“Like, dresses?” I ask.
“That and formal wear will be required. None of that goth stuff you’re used to.” He waves his hand like that’s the end of the conversation.
I haven’t dressed up since James’ funeral and never went to prom or anything since Dad left us high and dry. I’m sure nothing I own will be good enough for these dinner parties.
As if reading my mind, Maxwell says, “I’ll have the stylist come by.” And I have officially changed my mind. I wonder if a dorm room is available to move into.
“Where’s Creed? I’ve been dying to meet him.” Mom fills the lull in conversation.
Maxwell pulls out his phone and types quickly. Five minutes later, the door opens and reveals a guy. No, not a guy. A man. Creed is all man.
He wears a white dress shirt rolled at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the neck. Every inch of skin on display is covered in ink, save for his face. His jeans fit snugly around his strong thighs.
His hair is a deep brown, almost black, and is swept back from his face. It looks as if he just woke from a nap. He has a square jaw and cheeks so sharp they’d cut glass. His eyes are so at odds with the rest of him.
They're a deep green that reminds me of the hills in Ireland I’ve seen in pictures. Gorgeous, thick eyelashes frame his eyes. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was wearing mascara.
“Creed. How nice of you to join us,” Maxwell says, a hint of frustration in his voice.
“You’re welcome,” Creed responds as if it should be a pleasure to be in his company for even a minute.
Maxwell ignores him. “Meet your future stepmother Sophie and her daughter Adelya.”
Creed’s eyes flutter over my mom and then land on me where I still stand by the bar. He starts at my feet and works his eyes upward, taking in everything. I almost flinch under the scrutiny, but I hold my head high.
When he finally meets my eyes, he huffs, looking at me like I’m a piece of gum that is stuck to the bottom of his Italian loafers. Whatever. I don’t need his approval or anyone else's. I am who I am and he doesn't have to like me.
I skirt around him and take my seat back at the table. Leitha comes through just then with drinks. She sets my Dr. Pepper down in front of me but before I can grab it, Cree takes it and downs half of it in one drink.
“Thanks, Leitha. This hits the spot.” He tells the woman, who splutters just a little before turning to me.
“I’ll grab you another.” She tells me.
“Don’t bother yourself. The water is fine.” I say, shooting daggers at my new stepbrother. He smirks. He knew that drink was meant for me and he took it, anyway. The prick.
Leitha leaves and comes back with dish after dish laden down with the most amazing-smelling food I’ve ever seen. I start making a plate when I’m stopped by Creed. Every time I go for one thing, he snatches it before I can get the chance.
By the time he’s done and Mom and Maxwell load up, the only thing left is a bit of salad and green beans. I hate green beans. I don’t say a word, just fill my plate with the equivalent of rabbit food and resign myself to the knowledge that I’ll be in the kitchen later scrounging for something more substantial.
“I just thought you’d wanna watch your weight a little. You already dress like a freak.” Creed whispers.
I barely make it through a few bites before I give up. Mom looks at me as I move the food around my plate. “Everything ok?” she asks, nodding toward my plate.
“Sure. Just tired. If It’s ok, I think I’m going to head up to bed early. I have a long day tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes. Orientation. Creed will drive you,” Maxwell states.
Not happening. “It’s fine. I can just take Mom’s car. I’d like to get to know the area and look for a job.”
