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And the first people I have to face, apart from all the doctors, are her father and mother.
Talk about unlucky.
I already have sweaty palms by the time I get out of bed, and they’re not even in the room yet.
“Take it easy,” Jules says as she supports me while I get up.
But I have no intention of taking it easy. I want to be ready when they come. I can’t appear weak in front of them. They’re important to Jules, and I need to leave a good impression.
So I arch my back and gulp down some water before I start doing some exercises.
“What are you doing?”
“Stretching,” I say.
“The doctors said you should rest,” she says as she rummages in the closet.
“So? I don’t like lying still. I need to do something.”
“Want me to bring you something to read?” she asks.
“Read?” I raise a brow. I’ve never read a book in my life. Not because I don’t want to … but because I was never taught how.
“Oh, right.” She clears her throat. “Sorry, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“I know you wanna help, and that’s okay, but I’m fine. I just need to feel better.”
“But why now?”
I shrug, and she hands me a pile of clothes. I stare at them.
She nudges me with her elbow. “Put them on. I bought them for you.”
I do what she asks, throwing off the paper-thin gown they put on me here. She keeps ogling my dick, but I don’t mind. I like it when she stares. I understand her body language more than I do her actual words.
“Want me to help?” she asks.
“No, I can do it,” I say even though it still hurts to use my arm.
She folds her arms and cocks her head as she watches me dress. It hurts a little around the shoulder and on the bandages, but I manage. It fits but barely. My muscles feel constrained in this fabric.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Cotton. Don’t like it? I can get you something else.” She plucks at it to make it fall better over my abs.
“It’s great,” I say. I just want her to be happy.
Besides, if I’m going to convince her parents that I’m good for her, I’d better look the part. They’re probably going to judge the fuck out of me, and I need to be prepared. That, or they’re just as stone cold as my father was. I hope not.
“Your parents could be here any minute, right?” I ask, my nerves getting jittery.
“Yeah. Are you sure you want to see them?” Jules asks. “I can ask them to come back on a different day.”
“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” I reply, a little blunter than I wanted it to sound.
“Right … Sorry.” She looks away.
I grab her hand and smile. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
“It’s fine. I know you’re tense.” She snorts. “Anyone would be when they meet my parents.”
“Why?” I frown. “Is something wrong?”
She chuckles. “No, they’re just … difficult sometimes.”
“Oh.” The left side of my lips quirks up into a smile. “Like you.”
She narrows her eyes at me, which are practically shooting thunderbolts right about now.
I like it. I like it a lot.
But as I take one last glance at myself in the mirror, two heads pop up in the doorway. A knock follows.
“Mom … Dad!” Jules rushes over to them and hugs them tight. “So glad you came.”
“Of course, we did,” her mom says.
I turn around and clear my throat, nodding as her dad gives me a stern look. “And you must be Lock.”
Her dad approaches me first and holds out his hand. “Howard.”
I think I’m supposed to grab it and shake it … that’s what Jules told me, but when I do it, it feels so unnatural. Judging from the way he looks at me, he’s thinking the same thing.
“C’mon,” Jules says, grabbing her mom by the arm so she can drag her along to me.
Her mother is far more reluctant to greet me but still does it with a forced smile. As if she thinks I might bite her if she doesn’t play nice.
I smile in return and grab her hand, but not too harshly. After shaking it softly, I kiss her cheek, precisely how Jules told me to. Apparently, she likes it because her posture immediately relaxes.
“Happy to meet you, name’s Lock.”
Her cheeks turn red. “Oh, my … um, Lynn Baker.” She immediately eyes Jules and whispers, “You didn’t tell me he was this hot.”
She probably doesn’t realize I can hear, and it makes Jules chuckle. I try to smile too, but a sudden pang in the gashes in my stomach makes me groan. Jules immediately grabs me by the arms.
“Whoa. Careful there,” she mutters. “Let’s sit down.”
She helps me into the chair near the small table in the corner and gathers more chairs from the hallway for her parents to sit on, both of whom have gone to grab a cup of coffee.
