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“Because your dad hates this place just as much as Ford does.”
Ben nods, straightening his shoulders. “Then I hate it too. Let’s raise hell.”
I feel a flutter of something in my chest, as if the weight of this evening is slowly disintegrating, piece by piece.
People are filtering through the large wooden door as the three of us make our way up the marble steps. Columns stand on either side and large pots with colorful overflowing flowers hang from each one.
“Don’t be deceived,” I whisper to Ben. “This is all a fucking show.”
Ben nods and clenches his jaw, almost like he’s about to march into war as we finally enter the house. People are milling about, champagne flutes in their hands, all dressed formally. Women in floor-length dresses and men wearing suits like us.
Ford grabs drinks for each of us from a waiter as we make our way toward the backyard. Fairy lights line a large pergola, and I see the pool I’d spent hours in when I was a child. Over the years they’ve made small changes. A koi pond, an orchard with my mom’s favorite fruits, a waterfall in the pool. But to me, it all feels the same.
A cold, loveless home that I couldn’t wait to get away from.
“Oh, there’re the assholes now,” Ford murmurs and then points them out to Ben, who scowls.
I love that he’s getting so protective that he almost seems to be growling, like a small lion cub.
I want to push him against the wall and fuck him, want to turn those growls of anger into something more. Into something feral. For me.
As soon as the three of us begin to approach, my parents turn to look at me. Almost as if they were waiting for me to arrive. Ford reaches out and cups the back of my neck, squeezing it gently.
“Let’s give them hell,” Ben says, moving forward. We follow beside him, like soldiers protecting the prince. Our prince. That’s what he is.
I should have had him wear that crown he bought. It looked hot as fuck on him.
I’d fuck him like the royalty he is.
“Cash. Ford,” my mom says, her voice clipped and snobby. God, I hate this. I nod at her, and Ford gives a small wave before her eyes settle on Ben.
“And who’s this?”
“This is Ben,” I say as Ford steps just a little closer to him.
I watch the way that my mother’s eyes flick down to where our bodies connect, and my dad clears his throat. He’s wearing a suit that looks fucking expensive, his graying beard trimmed neatly. I look so much like him, it’s funny.
Too bad we couldn’t be any more different.
“Still friends, I see?” he says to Ford, and Ford smirks.
“More than that now.”
My dad’s brows knit.
Before Ford can say anything else, someone appears to my right and takes over the conversation, both of my parents turning their gazes away from us. So I use that opportunity to lead them away. I’ve done my part. I’m here, I said hello. I’m sure they’ll find me again. They haven’t nearly met their quota of personal jabs for the night.
“I wanted to make out with you both in front of them,” Ford says, and Ben lets out a choked laugh.
“Yeah, well, save it for later. I’m sure they’ll do something we all hate and then we can fuck off.”
“Sounds like a plan, now let’s eat. The one good thing about these fucking snobs is they have good food.”
He grabs on to Ben’s hand and pulls him toward the tables of food located under a canopy. We grab plates and by the time we’re seated, we have piles of food and drinks in front of us.
“God, this is delicious,” Ben says, taking a dainty bite of some kind of crab cake.
“It is and it’s good to see you eating normally,” Ford replies, and Ben flushes.
