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“Don’t be nervous,” he reassures as we walk to the backyard. His hand holds onto mine, likely so I don’t run away.He doesn’t know it, but it’s a real possibility.
“What if she hates me?” Another thought occurs to me. “Are your parents going to be here?” Oh my god. I’m not prepared to meet parents.
His chuckle is affable as he explains, “Ava will love you. And no, our parents are currently in Paris celebrating their fortieth anniversary.”
I feel weak-kneed at that revelation. “That’s amazing.” Momentarily, I forget my fear.
“You brought her!” I hear the squeal before being tugged into a nearly suffocating hug. Good thing I’m used to these; Summer can strangle a girl. Pulling back, she holds onto my shoulders, a warm smile illuminating her face. “I am so happy to meet you. Caspian never brings girls around, so I know he’s serious about you, which is a relief because I really didn’t want to have to take care of his bachelor ass forever.”
“Language,” a man grunts as he comes up behind her, wrapping his hands around her pregnant belly and kissing the side of her neck.
“My husband, Jack. He’s a grouch, but I love him anyway.” Ava’s laughter is followed up with a scowl from him.
Caspian pulls me out of her grip and into his arms. It’s quite evident how much larger he is than me like this. I notice a few people staring, but I ignore them because being in his arms gives me the confidence I didn’t know I needed.
“I’m delighted to be here and dying to know, did he ever bring you the Epsom salt?” Ava blinks and then laughs as she nods.
“He brought me all of it. He was in such a hurry after meeting you that he couldn’t have left much on the shelves. I’m stocked up for at least a year now.” A blush creeps up my face. “More guests! Don’t leave too early; I want to chat some more.” She’s gone as quickly as she came.
“Told you she’d love you,” Cas growls in my ear. Turning in his arms, I wrap mine around his neck and push up on my toes to kiss the tip of his chin since I still can’t reach his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” Finally, he gives me his lips before taking my hand to pull me around the yard with him. We stop at a cooler to grab some drinks—a Coors light for him and a Dr. Pepper for me.
We’re having fun and laughing, talking about everything and nothing at all, when I hear, “Little rabbit, is that you?” I’m not prepared.What is happening?My entire body rigidifies as Chester approaches.
Caspian glances between the two of us, a frown on his face. “How do you know Chester?”
Clapping Caspian on the back, Chester answers before I can. “Dude, I didn’t know you were into high school chicks. But this one, man, she’s a freak.”
I go cold at Chester’s words. He wouldn’t know what I am because I’ve never given him the time of day; he’s only ever tried to take from me.
Caspian’s hand drops from mine, and there’s an iciness in the way he looks at me. “High school?” His voice is low, angry. Betrayal lurks in his stare.
I blink up at him, at the way he says the words. I didn’t mention I was in high school; it never came up. I didn’t realize it mattered. He knew I was in school. He knew my classes started at nine.
Sucking in a sharp breath, it dawns on me that he must have thought I meant college.
“Yes.” I bob my head as well because I don’t know if my voice worked. My ears are ringing, and I can’t hear anything around me. My sight is wonky as tears crowd my vision.
“Bro didn’t know,” Chester laughs. “Didn’t know you were so cunning, little rabbit.”
Ignoring my tormentor, Caspian reaches out a hand towards me before dropping it and ordering, “Let’s go inside.” I do as I’m told because I’d rather not be left alone with Chester. I hate him more now than I did before.
Once we’re inside, away from everyone, chills overwhelm me, freezing me from the inside out. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I wait for Caspian to speak.
“High school,” he repeats.
“I graduate in a couple of months.” I can’t look at him. From the tone of his voice, I can tell he’s furious with me. I should have told him right from the start, but I was eighteen and didn’t realize it would be a problem. I should have, I guess.I’m so stupid.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Bunny. Are you even eighteen?” His exhale appears exasperated. “No, don’t fucking answer that. If I don’t know, I won’t want to toss myself in front of a bus.”
His words sting like a slap to the face. I respond anyway, “I am eighteen.” I think I hate myself more than Chester right now.
“When?”
“What?” I dart a quick look up at him and cringe. The hurt I witness is like a punch to the gut.
“When did you turn eighteen?” Experiencing his reaction now, I know he’ll hate my answer.
