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How embarrassing.
“No, we won’t share a room. It’s too soon for all that.” I round the bed and sit on the other side, sighing deeply. “Everything is still too... new between us.”
Mom is quiet for a moment before she asks, “Have you two had sex yet?”
My entire body flushes hot at her question. “No.”
“Oh.” Another hesitation. “Do you need to go on birth control?”
No. I’m not having sex with Tate Ramsey—ever. “Probably,” I hedge.
“You should make an appointment with the gynecologist before you leave.” Mom keeps her gaze focused on the clothes so she doesn’t have to look at me. “And take care of that right away.”
“I will,” I say softly, though I won’t.
I can’t. We’re flying out tomorrow, and I don’t have the time.
Besides, I don’t need to.
She lifts her head, her eyes filled with concern. “Oh, darling. Please make sure Tate treats you well.”
I’m a little taken aback by the worry in her voice. “I will, I promise.”
“I hope he’s good to you. I really, really do.” A sigh leaves her, and she shakes her head. “I googled him last night. There was a lot to go through.”
Dread fills me, making my stomach twist. “You googled him?”
“Of course I did. From what I read online, he went through a very rough time.”
“He did, but he’s a lot better now. He’s sober. Doesn’t drink or do drugs anymore,” I reassure her.
“I’m happy to hear it, and I wish him well. In the entertainment industry, it’s so hard to avoid those sorts of things. They’re everywhere.” The doubt on her face, in her voice, is obvious. Mom and Dad went through their “party phase,” as they like to call it, and I’ve done my own online sleuthing regarding my parents—excessive drug use and drinking were abundant with their crowd. I’m sure my parents partook.
I’ve seen photos of my dad and mom during their heyday. Sometimes they looked flat-out wasted. I’m sure her concern is warranted.
Could I approach Tate with my own worries about his sobriety and warn him that temptation will be everywhere? Or is this even something I could talk to him about? I’m sure he’s aware of all of that. And maybe it’s none of my business. After all...
He’s just my fake boyfriend.
“I have total faith in him,” I say with all the confidence I can muster. “He’ll be fine. He’s stronger than everyone thinks.”
Mom studies me, warmth filling her gaze. “That’s so sweet, Scarlett. How much you believe in him. I think I like you seeing this boy. Even if you did originally go to him only to make Ian jealous.”
My mouth pops open as I stare at her. “That’s not?—”
“You don’t need to lie to me,” Mom says, interrupting. “I understand your motives. Maybe you’ll fall for this Tate character, maybe you won’t, but if he helps you get over Ian once and for all, I won’t complain.”
I’m a little offended. “You don’t like Ian?”
“Darling, I feel like you’re the only person I know whodoeslike him.”
* * *
“You better call me every single day. No, you have to FaceTime me. I need to see the look on your face when I ask you for all the details about what you’re doing with Tate and you try to lie to me.”
Rachel and I are sitting in a restaurant, having an early dinner, which is totally unlike us. We don’t normally eat dinner until ten at night when we go out, but my flight with Tate to Los Angeles tomorrow is at an ungodly hour, and I don’t want to stay out too late. It’ll be difficult enough, having to get up that early. I’m already feeling reluctant about leaving my home. My parents. My best friend.
I’m a little scared. I can’t lie.
