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Charlie needs a little spitfire who’s going to put stars in his eyes. He deserves to find the real deal and soon enough, he’s going to realize that it’s not me. I’m too messed up to be his girl. He’s not dark enough, not tough enough. Not that I need a man by my side, but if I had to pick one, it’s going to be one who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, a real alpha who’s not going to hold back, and who’s not afraid to tell me no. I need a strong, fierce man, not a boy who’s still playing games.
I make my way around the kitchen, getting everything ready for dinner as mom cleans up after another long day of work. “How was your first day of school?” she calls from the bathroom, speaking over the sound of the water as she washes her hands. “Did you meet any nice girls?”
“I guess,” I call back. “They were alright. Though, they’re more interested in how I can get them closer to Colton than actually getting to know me.”
I hear mom’s heavy sigh as she walks out of the bathroom and appears back in the kitchen. “That’s a shame,” she says, grabbing our plates and taking them over to the table. “Just give it a few weeks and you’ll be able to weed out the good eggs from the bad ones.”
“I hope so. There was one girl, Hendrix, who I met a few weeks ago. She seems alright. She’s no Nic though.”
Mom turns her back but not before I see her subtle eye roll. “You can’t keep putting Nic so high up on that pedestal. He’s just a regular boy, just like the rest of them,” she tells me. “One day you’re going to realize this.”
“I’ve never really understood your aversion to Nic. He was great until he cheated, but as a friend, he’s always been amazing.”
“He has,” she agrees, coming back to the kitchen counter for the cutlery and soda. “But I want better for you. I want you to have more than a shitty dead-end job, living in a town that’s overrun by crime, and coming home each night to a man who has blood on his hands. Do I need to remind you that Nic will be taking over for his father soon enough and I don’t want a target like that on your back. The West Side Wolves would do anything to stop Nic getting into power because they know he’s a game-changer. Just because he has his head screwed on properly, doesn’t make him the right boy for you.”
“So, what kind of boy is the right one for me?”
“Someone who is going to let you fly, not the one who wants to keep you caged. The right one for you is not afraid to let you go because if he truly is your soulmate, he’ll know that you’ll come back to him. A man who keeps you caged doesn’t love you for you, he loves what you can offer him. A man who keeps a woman caged sees her as only a possession and not an equal.”
I stare at the back of my mother’s head as she goes about setting the table and I can’t help but wonder if she’s right. Is that how she thinks Nic really is? Does he care more about me as a possession than as the love of his life? He tells me all the time that he wants me back, but why? He cheated. Clearly he didn’t feel that what we had as a couple was something worth treasuring, so why fight so hard for it?
I put the lid back on the pan to keep the leftover pasta warm as mom drops down into her chair at the table. I start making my way toward her, lost inside my thoughts when a knock sounds at the door, making my heart leap right out of my chest.
I spin around, finding Colton standing awkwardly in our doorway and I gape at him, not because I’m surprised to find him here, but because I was so lost inside my thoughts on Nic’s possessive behavior that I didn’t even notice Colton cut in front of the massive floor to ceiling windows to get to the door.
Mom flies to her feet, desperately trying to be respectful of our rich prick boss who stands in our doorway. “Mr. Carrington,” she says, her eyes going wide with fear, instantly assuming that she’s in trouble for something. “Is everything alright? Did I forget to do something?”
“Oh, no. Everything is perfect, Maria,” he insists, waving off her worry. His eyes briefly flick to mine before looking back at mom. “I was actually wondering if I could join you for dinner?”
The fuck?
“Oh, of course,” Mom says, her eyes going wide before she begins fussing around trying to make space for him. I gawk at him awkwardly as he steps through the doorway and heads for the table, wondering what his game plan is. “Did you not like the meal that was left out for you? I can prepare something else and let the chefs know to remove tonight’s options from their rotation. I’ll just need a moment—”
