AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are my parents joining us?”
Maceo’s cheeks puff before releasing the air. “Yeah.”
“For real, Maceo?!”
“Your mom wouldn’t take no for answer, and I really didn’t want to start another fight.”
“Were you going to take me to dinner and surprise me with my parents waiting for us?” I accuse.
Maceo opens his mouth to defend himself but quickly clamps it shut, knowing he has no argument.
“Whose side are you on?” I ask with a hurt voice.
He runs his hands up and down my damp arms. “Yours, baby. Always yours.”
“If you were on my side, you wouldn’t be plotting an ambush. You’re shooting three for three right now, and none of it is winning you any favors,” I grit, stepping away to dry off.
Maceo sighs but says nothing else as we get dressed.
* * *
Spitefully, I insist we drive my Subaru to the restaurant. Maceo loves nothing more than to ride us anywhere with me snug against his back on his bike. I’m surprised when he doesn’t protest, which honestly pisses me off. I want him just as upset as me. He brought this hellfire down on himself. Frustrated, I grind my teeth.
He tries to placate me by turning on my playlist, but I quickly shut it off. He’s a cunning man who knows music calms my inner bitch, but I’m not having it tonight. I will be wearingbitchlike armor for this torturous event.
Maceo sighs deeply and tries to take my hand. I pull it away and fold my arms over my chest defiantly.
“Pixie, please,” he pleads with me, holding out his hand.
My eyes narrow as I look over at him. He looks upset. And fuck me, I hate seeing him looking like a kicked puppy.
With a huff, I drop my hand in his, ignoring how comforting his touch is. I look out the passenger window, denying him my undivided attention. Maceo is an attention-whore, and I know my rebellious act will get under his skin.
I can feel his eyes turn to me several times as we drive. As angry as I am with him, my eyes keep sneaking peeks at him too, especially with how handsome he looks in fitted dark-blue jeans and a black button-down, highlighting all his gorgeousness.
His dark good looks are a combination of his Spaniard and Colombian heritage. He rarely dresses this suave, but he’s trying to match me in my body-hugging black dress. Did he believe dressing up would score him some brownie points and make me happy?
Well, too fucking bad—no one is going to be happy tonight, because I’m sure as fuck am not happy. I will spread my unhappiness with everyone since I’m an equal opportunity bitch to all.
When we get to the steak house, Maceo parks the car. He tucks a wild hair of mine behind my ear, and my body zings from his loving caress. He knows his touch affects me and he braves a quick kiss to my cheek.
I turn and look at him full on. His dark eyes hypnotize me, and he takes advantage of my moment of weakness by capturing my lips. His kiss is urgent and demanding, and I give in because I hate denying him.Way to hold out, Jo.
He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against mine. “It’s an hour, two tops. Afterward, we’ll go home and cuddle, I promise.”
Cuddling sounds magical, like the perfect dessert.
Maceo hops out and runs around to open my door—always the gentleman. I climb out, eager to get this shit over with. Maceo walks beside me into the upscale restaurant, his warm palm guiding me at the small of my back. My parents are seated near the front, noticing us immediately.
This dinner is already going to be tension-filled as is. I try to shelve my hostility as we walk to the table, anything to make this experience less painful. Hellos are exchanged, and Maceo helps me into my seat. He lowers himself next to me, takes my hand in his, and brings it to his lips for a chaste kiss. I know he’s trying to relax me, but it’s useless. I busy myself, scanning over my menu to avoid engaging my parents.
Maceo and my parents go back and forth with pleasantries, and I fight my eye roll.
Anger is the dominant feeling I’m experiencing, but I’m also hurt. A small part of me acknowledges if my parents hadn’t been such huge dicks, I may not have moved out to Colorado and met Maceo. Should I be thanking them for pushing me away?
Maceo squeezes my hand gently, urging me to join in the conversation. I ready myself to talk, but I’m saved when the waiter comes to take our orders. My parents order cocktails and Maceo orders his whiskey neat. I order my bourbon on the rocks, as well as a bottle of wine. Alcohol is definitely going to make this dinner more bearable. We order our food and the table falls silent.
Everyone seems to be looking at me to make the first move, and I don’t like the attention.
