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“Son,” the man says by way of greeting as he reaches us. It’s not exactly a warm greeting either, more of an emotionless acknowledgment.
“Dad,” Adam replies, giving him a nod.
“Who…” he starts, clearing his throat to regain his composure, “who is this?”
Of course, Truett knows exactly who I am. I watched him enter that club nearly every night. I was there the first time he fucked someone in the VIP room, and I was there the night his son caught him with his face between another woman’s thighs.
I know Truett, and he knows me.
When I glance up toward Adam, waiting for his answer to the man’s question, I expect him to falter again. I expect him to hesitate and uncomfortably call me his date.
But he doesn’t falter at all.
“This is mygirlfriend, Sage,” Adam says with an air of smug confidence—head held high, arm proudly draped behind my back, eyes laser-focused on the man in front of him. There’s a flinch in his father’s expression as he utters that word.
“Girlfriend?” Truett replies with astonishment.
I can hardly contain the grin on my face.
“Nice to meet you,” I say as sweetly as possible, extending my hand toward him. Adam’s father stares at it a moment before a tall, thin blonde woman I recognize as Melanie Goode joins him at his side. Her reaction is not nearly as trained as everyone else’s. She gapes at me with shock, her eyes scanning me from my pink hair down to my strappy black heels.
But just as I expect her to verbally belittle me with disgust or contention, she takes me completely by surprise as she smiles sweetly. “Well, aren’t you a vision? I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Melanie.”
She puts her perfectly manicured hand out, and I shake it nervously, waiting for Adam to jump in with the introductions. When he doesn’t, I glance up at him and, for the first time, notice a sense of apprehension on his face. He’s staring at his mother with softness and remorse written across his features.
“I’m Sage,” I say to Melanie, but this time, my smile isn’t forced.
Truett’s scornful gaze is directed at me, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, there’s a booming voice over the loudspeaker. A man in a blue suit at the front of the stage warmly welcomes all of the attendees and invites us all to find our seats.
Without a word, Melanie smiles tightly at me before turning her back and pulling her husband toward the front of the room.
As I glance back up at Adam, I notice that the confidence and satisfaction are gone from his face.
We make our way over to the tables in the middle of the room. They’re large and round, big enough to fit eight people at each, which means we’re seated at the same table as Adam’s parents, his brother and his wife, along with two empty seats.
Adam is tense beside me as we wait in silence for the others to join us. Melanie Goode keeps glancing my way and every time I catch her staring, she gives me a polite smile and looks away.
Briar Goode looks like she’s on a mission to get drunk before everyone else. She’s already halfway through a new glass of wine.
A man who looks more like Adam and Melanie is sitting on the other side of Briar. No one greets him and he doesn’t speak. Just leans back in his chair as if he’s already bored, and the event hasn’t even started.
“That’s my brother Luke,” Adam whispers in my ear. “He hates these things.”
“I can see that,” I reply under my breath. Then I glance at the empty chair. “Who is that seat for?”
The muscles in Adam’s jaw clench, and I sense that I’ve just touched on a sensitive topic. “My youngest brother Isaac.”
“Is he coming?” I ask.
“No.” Then he takes a drink and averts his eyes. “He doesn’t come…to anything anymore.”
With that, I drop the subject. The last thing I want to do tonight is get on Adam’s nerves. He’s my lifeline, the only person I can rely on in this den of wolves.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. His lips are so close to my ear I can feel them brushing my hair. If I were to turn my head, we’d be mouth to mouth. Something tells me he was about to kiss me earlier after the introduction with Caleb and Briar. But he hesitated a second too long and the moment passed.
I’m cursing myself for not practicing the kissing before tonight. I had him touch my boobs. Why didn’t I just kiss him too, to get it out of our systems? Because before tonight is over, we’re going to have to kiss at least once. That was the deal.
“I need more alcohol,” I reply in a whisper with my nearly empty glass up to my lips. “Everyone is staring at me.”
