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“Mom—”
“I mean, Norah has had nothing but long relationships. She wants to have children and a home. My word, Liv, I can’t believe you won’t settle down. Especially with Rory not having a father.”
“I’m not just going to pick someone because you want me to fill a gap in my life.”
“Your looks aren’t going to last forever,” she asserts with a furrowed brow. “And pretty soon, you’re going to be too old.”
My eyes slit. “I’m twenty-three, Mom.”
“And you’re working at a tattoo parlor,” she whisper-shouts again, gesturing at our surroundings with her hands. “Do you know what guys like that do?”
I cock my head to the side. “Tattoos?”
However, she means the stereotype of fucking, drinking, smoking, hanging out at bars until the wee hours of the morning, and not sticking with one woman.
She’s not entirely wrong.
Nevertheless, Devin has been dating some chick for a few months now. And Winslow, another tattoo artist, is married with, like, six kids.
“Olive”—Mom’s voice dips into that serious tone of hers that poses no bullshit—“your cousin just got engaged a few months ago. Your sister is getting married in less than a month, and I can’t even get you to commit to a dress. What did I do wrong with you?”
Wow.
If I didn’t feel like a worthless piece of crap before, I sure do now. However, I’ve never lived up to her high standards, and I really don’t plan on it anytime soon.
“I’ll be there, Mom,” I vouch even though she doesn’t deserve it, but Dad does. And that’s the only reason why I’m giving up a weekend to be harassed by the woman in front of me for three days.
“With who?” She throws her hands in the air. “You just said you’re not coming.”
“No, I didn’t,” I retort. “Active listening, Mom. Use it.”
“And if you don’t come with anyone, then there’s going to be an odd number of place settings and, my goodness, Liv.” She rocks her head back and forth in dismay, tapping her light pink nails to her chin. “What do you do to these men? Do you purposely chase them away?”
I don’t get a chance to respond to that because, appearing at my mother’s side, is my boss, towering over her frame like a black cloud.
Hudson doesn’t seem to notice my mother or that she’s even bitching at me.
Instead, he’s got that same annoyed, sour expression on his face that he’s always carrying around. Those green eyes are peering down at me with nothing but disinterest, indifference, and the constant tunnel vision he’s always shouldering—his business.
“I need coffee.”
Three words, and that’s all he says.
And something within me snaps at that moment.
A lapse of judgment or sanity.
The looming thoughts in my mother’s head about how I’m such a failure at life or maybe the fact that she’d never ever dare say that to me if she knew I had a man with shoulders the size of Goliath and a stare that would make grown men squirm.
“Mom, this is Hudson. My boyfriend.”
Whyyyyyyyy did you just say that?!
Instead of taking the safer route and keeping my secure focus on my mother, I’m too consumed with watching Hudson…not that anything has changed.
Under those green eyes is a face loaded with dark facial hair from where his hairline meets his skin, wrapping around his edged jawline and underneath his plump pink lips.
“Oh.” My mother’s one-word surprise is apparent, but I’m too busy being stared at by Hudson like I’ve either lost my goddamn mind or he’s still trying to remember who the hell I am again. At least one of us can get themselves together because Mom continues with, “It’s nice to meet you, Hudson. I’m Liv’s mother.”
