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Before she can step away from me, I hook a finger in the front of her dress, holding her still. The warmth of her cleavage surges through my body.
“I swear, if you wear this dress out of the house and flash your sweet ass to anyone else like that…”
Cassandra shakes her head. “No. Never.”
Her chest rises with a deep inhale, and I have to force myself to step back.
I pull my finger free of her dress just before her dad sticks his head around the end of the short hall and tells us to hurry up.
CHAPTER33
Cassie
Hans presseshis palm to my lower back, making me walk ahead of him.
Every step brings us closer to my parents, and I’m realizing what a massive error it was to let Hans come here with me. They’re going to ask so many questions and assume so many things, and it’s going to be a disaster.
I slow, causing Hans to apply more pressure to my back.
“What is it, Butterfly?” His voice is low, but it still sends a shiver down my spine.
The nickname is enough to pull my mind away from the edge of stress. “Why do you call me that?”
Hans circles his thumb on my spine. “Ask me later.”
I nod. “Okay.” Then I square my shoulders and step into my parents’ eat-in kitchen.
Before I can try to properly introduce him, my mom cuts in, setting a steaming dish onto the center of the round table. “Hope you like breakfast for dinner. Cassie didn’t tell us she was bringing afriendwith her, otherwise we would’ve asked for food preferences.” She cuts her eyes to me when she says friend. And I accept that it’s a freaking miracle she said that rather than just calling him my boyfriend.
“I eat everything.” Hans’s rough voice fills the room.
I have to stop my eyes from rolling back.
I eat everything.
Jesus take the wheel.
“Good.” Mom’s face lights up. “Cassie’s father is the same way.” She smiles over at Dad, who is placing a pitcher of orange juice and a carafe of coffee on the table. “That’s how I first caught his attention. With my cookies.”
Hans makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort.
“Not true.” Dad grins. “It was the way you filled out the seat of your pants.”
“Dad!” I shriek.
Mom hits him with her oven mitt. “Oh, stop it.”
Dad just shrugs. “Cassie is old enough to know the truth now.”
“Now? I’ll remind you I’m thirty, but I could’ve gone the rest of my life without knowing that.” I add my age for Hans’s benefit. I don’t want him thinking I’m too young for him.
“And how old are you, young man?” Dad calmly turns his attention to Hans, like he hadn’t jumped the last time he looked at him.
“I’m thirty-nine, sir,” Hans answers formally.
My dad nods. “Good age.”
Thirty-nine.I memorize the information.
