by Portia Moore
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I’ll give the man one thing, he knows how to convince me. He took me straight back to bed and went down on me for at least an hour, teasing me and making me come until I would probably have agreed to anything he asked.
So now we’re driving down a little suburban backroad to his mother and stepdad’s house, and I put on a reasonably modest shirt—a white shirt and blazer that we had to run back to my place to get since what I wore to his apartment last night showed both my cleavage and my stomach—and jeans. I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, skipped the makeup, and now I just have to hope they don’t hate me.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were nervous,” he teases me, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze.
“You know I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me,” I shoot back, but I’m biting my lip and staring out the window. I am nervous, but I don’t want him to know. The neighborhood is pretty nice, nothing like any place I lived as a kid. There’s a few nicely-kept apartment complexes and a lot of midwestern-style homes, and the block is quiet and peaceful. There’s lots of dogs and happy kids out playing. I wonder what it would be like to live in a place like this.
“You ever see yourself living somewhere like this?” he asks as we get out of the car, as if he’s read my mind. I can see him looking at me, taking in the way I’m dressed. He’s never seen me like this before, conservatively dressed for me, and I wonder if he likes it. I don’t know how I feel about that—does he prefer me like this? Or is it just nice to see another side of me, well the one he thinks? Do I care?
“In another life, maybe,” I say quietly, shoving my hands down in my jeans pockets. He reaches for one of them and leans forward to kiss my cheek, and I push him away playfully.
“She’s going to love you,” he tells me confidently, and I bite my lip, looking away and reaching for my sunglasses.
“How many girls have you brought here?”
“One,” he tells me calmly.
I stop, narrowing my eyes at him. “And what made her so special?” I ask, my voice teasing, but there’s some jealousy in it. I don’t want to think of him with any other girl.
“She was my prom date, I sort of had to,” he says, laughing.
My smile falters a little. “So I’m the first girl you’ve brought home after you hit puberty?” There’s a gravity to this suddenly, a seriousness I’m not sure I’m ready for.
“Something like that,” he says, shrugging, and I look at him with my eyes widening, trying to decide how I feel about this. If I want everything that I’m suddenly realizing that he does.
He pushes me playfully, breaking the mood, and I trip him easily, making a beeline for the house.
“No wonder I don’t get to meet any of your girls,” I hear his mother laugh from the front door, and I stop short. She’s grinning at me and Ian. “You break him, you buy him,” she tells me in a friendly tone, and I try not to laugh.
“Oh my gosh, she’s your twin,” I whisper to Ian as he catches up to me, and it’s true. Their faces are almost identical, although of course she’s more feminine…and much shorter.
“Mom this is…”
“Alana. I pried her name out of you weeks ago,” she says laughing, and Ian looks embarrassed. It’s kind of nice to see him a little unsure of himself for once. He hugs his mom, enveloping her in his long arms, and then she looks at me, sizing me up a little.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cage,” I say politely, and she puts a hand out, shaking mine.
“Your dad’s in the back,” she tells Ian. “Burgers are almost done, ya’ll follow me.”
Ian’s stepdad is on the back porch, holding a beer and flipping burgers while he listens to a sportscast. He turns towards us and his eyes immediately land on me, and he gets a huge grin on his face. I’ve never seen anyone other than Ian so happy to see me.
“Look who I’ve got,” Ian’s mother says proudly. “This is Ian’s girl, isn’t she pretty?”
It’s not the first time anyone’s ever called me that, but it’s the first time it makes me happy hearing it. There’s that sense of belonging again that I felt at Blue’s family barbecue, filling a space that I hadn’t known was empty.
“Pretty’s an understatement,” he says, laughing. “I’d ask for a hug, but I don’t want to get you all greasy.”
To my surprise, I don’t really care. I like Ian’s parents already, and I want them to like me. It’s out of character, but I decide not to look too deeply into it, and just go with my gut. “I’m okay with a little bit of grease,” I tell him, smiling brightly and hugging him. I see the shocked expression on Ian’s face, and I like that I’ve surprised him.
“Aren’t you sweet,” he says. “Diane can take some lessons.” Ian’s mother glares at him and I wince. I hope I didn’t step on her toes.
“Don’t let her fool you,” Ian says, laughing, and I swat at his arm playfully.
“Grab a beer, Ian,” Pete says. “You drink, sweetheart?”
“Sometimes,” I say cautiously, laughing.
“I have wine, red and white. You want to grab some with me?” Ian’s mom asks, and I hesitate for a second. There’s something chilly about his mother, a hesitation that wasn’t there with Pete. I wonder if she doesn’t like me.
“Sure,” I say sweetly, following her into the house.
Diane pours two glasses of wine—red—without asking me which I would like. She hands me one and looks at me appraisingly, swirling the liquid in her glass.
“Did Ian tell you I work in the high schools?” she asks her tone almost defensive. I swallow down my own and nod and smile. “I’ve worked around inner-city kids for a long time,” she says slowly, looking away for a moment and then back at me. “I’ve seen a lot of kids with the same look you have in your eye.”
“What look is that?” I ask, my voice icing over a little.
She ignores my question. “I see the way Ian looks at you, and be careful with him okay. If you hurt him, I’ll have to hurt you.”
Her face is deadpan as she says this. I swallow down my indignation.
“I don’t plan to hurt him,” I say cautiously. This is all becoming more intense than I expected and it’s throwing me the hell off.
“See that you don’t.” She looks at me again, the ice back in her eyes, and then strides ahead of me, back out to the patio with the bowls of potato salad and a bowl of baked beans that she hands me. I try to push down the indignation that’s fighting to escape up my throat, but I can’t unleash it. This is Ian’s mom and whatever she think she sees in me I won’t prove her right about it. I’ll show her she’s wrong and lashing out is exactly the opposite of showing she’s wrong so I swallow my pride, take a deep breath, and follow her out to the backyard as if nothing’s happened. Ian smiles at me as I make my way back to the table. He has no idea what a bitch his mother was to me in there and I don’t plan on letting him know it, so I give him a grin he’s used to.
“Ian said you’re a teacher,” I say once we sit down. I’m next to Ian and across from his mother, and I want to make one last effort to thaw things out between us. “That’s awesome.”
Ian gives me an encouraging smile, and I’m glad I’m making him happy, at least. I don’t know what the hell his mother has against me—if it’s just protectiveness or something else, but my limits of politeness can only be stretched so far.
“Fifteen years and counting,” his mother replies. “You wouldn’t believe the types of things I’ve seen, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Are you in school?”
I feel Ian tense up beside me, but I’m not going to be embarrassed about who I am. “Ugh, no,” I say calmly, spooning up some baked beans. “School’s never really been my thing.”
“Education is important, I keep telling this one that.” Ian’s mother switches her frosty expression to him, and I’m glad for the reprieve, but I feel bad for Ian.
“It’s better they realize it before they go and ra
ck up a bunch of debt figuring it out,” Pete interjects. “John’s kid got him to cosign on a forty-grand loan and he’s barely holding down a job at Target.”
Ian is glaring at his mother. I shift uncomfortably. The good, cozy feeling is gone, and I miss it.
“So what do you do now?” Ian’s mother asks, turning her attention back to me.
“I have a few jobs, but I mainly make my money singing at a gentlemen’s club.” I say it out of spite to really give her something to be pissed off at. I see his mother’s eyebrows practically shoot up into her hairline, and Pete coughs, laughing through it.
“I’m sorry,” Diane says condescendingly. “Is that a strip club?”
“Mom, what the hell?” Ian exclaims, his voice angry.
“No, it’s okay Ian,” I say sweetly, but my tone is acidic underneath it. “I guess that is what your generation would call it.”
“My generation?” His mother laughs tightly, and I meet her eyes. Well, there’s no love lost now, that’s for sure.
“You know, these days everything is different,” Pete speaks up, clearly trying to placate the situation. “If anyone should know that it’s you, hon.”
Diane isn’t listening, though. Her glare is firmly fixed on me now. “I think the biggest problem with your generation is that they want everything fast, quick, in a hurry. No one wants to put in the time or work to find the right career or the right person.”
My entire body goes stiff at that, and I can feel Ian’s doing the same.
“Diane, let me talk to you inside,” Pete says, looking at his wife firmly, but Ian interjects.
“No, she doesn’t have to. We’re leaving,” he says shortly.
“Ian, you should stay.” I stand up, my heart pounding. I don’t want to pull Ian away from his family, but I can’t take any more of this.
“No, we’re leaving together.” His voice is firm as he stands up, too.
“Everyone calm down,” Pete says, and he stands as well, trying to run interference. “No one’s leaving. You two stay put. Diane—in the house, now.”
Ian’s mother glares at him, but spins on her heel, stalking into the house with her husband just behind her.
“I don’t know what the hell her problem is,” Ian says tightly, “but I’m sorry. We can leave right now if you want.”
I’m not as angry as I thought I’d be. I’m just sad, really. Sad that the warmth and acceptance I thought was here isn’t, sad that my presence is causing a divide between Ian and his parents, who he clearly loves. You destroy everything that you’re a part of.
“No,” I say, more calmly than I thought I could. “Your mom may have been a bi…but she’s still your mom. I’d never come between that.” I can feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I try to blink them back. I hate this. I hate feeling weak, and sad. I’ve avoided it for my entire existence. This isn’t fucking me!
Ian looks sad, too. He pulls me into a hug, kissing me softly, and I realize then how important I am to him. How much he cares about me. It makes me happy and terrified all at once. “I’ll be right back,” he tells me, and he walks into the house, leaving me there standing on the patio.
I go out to his car to wait. I don’t know what he and his mother are talking about, and I wonder if it’ll change anything. If she’ll convince him that I’m bad news, that he’s better off without me.
He probably would be. No, he definitely would be. But I don’t want him to go.
He comes out a few minutes later, and I give him a half smile, sitting on the hood of his Chevy Impala. “Hey,” I say softly, and he smiles at me.
“I thought you had left.”
“How could I leave when I don’t have the keys?” I grin at him and he walks towards me as if nothing has changed, spreading my legs apart and standing between them. He kisses my neck, sending chills over me, and then my mouth, sliding his tongue into my mouth and drawing mine into his. I think if it was dark, he might have fucked me right here on the hood of his car. I can feel how hard he is between my legs, and I know then he’s not going anywhere. For better or for worse, we’re in this.
“I missed you,” he says, squeezing my ass, and I laugh.
“It’s only been ten minutes,” I tell him wryly.
“But I thought you were gone. I had this feeling.”
“I wouldn’t make your mom right about me,” I say softly, leaning my forehead against his. He kisses my neck again, and I breathe in as his arms go around me, pulling me close to him. I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad he’s back, that he still wants me. That no one can talk him out of me.
He leans back, surveying my face, and I narrow my eyes, smiling curiously at him.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Marry me.”
My face goes blank. My heart leaps into my throat. He can’t be serious. It’s only been six months…no one sane gets married after only six months.
“Don’t joke like that,” I scold him, my voice sharp. He’s joking…he has to be.
“I’m not—I swear to God.”
I swallow hard. His face is as serious as a heart attack. What is he thinking? I was right—he’s as crazy as I am. But for every reason that it’s a ridiculous idea…I also find myself wanting to say yes. I know it’s a bad idea. I know it can never work. But for a moment—I want to believe that I can have this normal thing. That Ian and I could build the life that we see around us right now, together. Forever. For better or worse.
“You’re crazy,” I say, frowning, but he’s just grinning like a lunatic, looking at me as if I’m the whole world.
“We both are,” he says, laughing. He’s right. But that doesn’t mean we should get married.
“You’re serious,” I say in a whisper, feeling breathless. What am I supposed to say?
“I am,” he confirms.
“Your mom hates me,” I tell him.
“So the fuck what? She’ll get over it. I love you, more and more every day. I don’t need to wait a year or two to know how I feel now isn’t going to change. But if you ask, I’ll wait on you for ten.”
For the first time in my life, I’m completely speechless. His words have taken my breath away, and in that moment, I don’t care about any reason why we shouldn’t.
The reason we shouldn’t.
Her.
But right now she doesn’t matter. I don’t care about my past. I just want Ian to be my future. I’ve found something that makes me happy, and I want to grab onto it, to hold on and not let it go.
“When?” I whisper breathlessly, and I see his whole face light up.
“Does that mean you’re saying…”
I nod, my face breaking into a smile to match his. With the decision behind me, all I can feel is elation. I’ve never been this happy in my life, and I can see all of it reflected in his face too.
“Tomorrow,” he says. “Devin and Shauna are going to Vegas to elope. Let’s make it a double wedding.”
“You’re serious?” I ask excitedly.
“We’re doing this, babe,” he says, and I grab his face, pulling his mouth to mine passionately, my tongue sliding into his mouth as he kisses me with a frenzy that I eagerly match, unable to get close enough to him. His hands are everywhere on me—my breasts, my thighs, my waist, and I grind against him, gasping as I feel him throb against me.
“We’ve got to get in the car babe, or we’re going to get arrested,” he says with a laugh, picking me up and putting me in the back of the car. I’ve forgotten that we’re parked in front of his parents’ house, that we’re in a nice middle-class neighborhood, and literally everything else except the feeling of Ian’s bare skin against mine, the gasp of his breath in my ear, and the feeling of him sliding inside of me, filling me up as I clench around him in an orgasm that takes my breath away, screaming his name in the backseat of his car like we’re sixteen years old.
“You know, I really don’t appreciate you crashing our secret wedding,” I hear Shauna hiss at
Ian as we walk through the airport. I wince. Shauna is astonishingly gorgeous, and nice despite her current annoyance, and I feel kind of bad that the first time I met her, Ian was telling her that we’re also getting married on the same day that they are.
“Blame your can’t-keep-his-mouth-shut boyfriend,” Ian shoots back as we head towards our hotel suite.
“After all of the jokes and bad-mouthing about me being a pussy and wanting to get married, I’m laughing my ass off right now,” Devin says pointedly.
I can’t help but laugh. He has a point. “And that’s why he’s buying us all drinks the whole weekend,” I say, nudging Ian.
“I guess that sort of helps,” Shauna says, relenting a little.
“House, house drinks only,” Ian says, sounding slightly nervous.
“We didn’t agree to that, did we, bae?” Devin grins, and I snort, enjoying the look on Ian’s face.
“Nope, I don’t remember that deal at all,” Shauna says.
I lean towards Ian, brushing my lips against his ear. “It’s okay babe,” I murmur. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Shauna grins conspiratorially at me. “You have to tell me how you got him to bite the bullet in less than a year when Devin here sat on his ass for almost three.”
“Hey, we’re right here,” Devin says, laughing as we all walk into the suite.
“Damn, Devin, comedy shows pay you this much?” Ian looks around the room, complete with grey marble floors, a wall that’s just a massive window, and huge plush beds. I’m just as blown away by it—I see luxury every night at the club, but I didn’t think I’d get to stay somewhere like this without having to drug a guy. Devin just laughs as Shauna wraps her arms around his neck.
“Who said he paid for it?” She giggles.
“My American Express does,” he says playfully, and she laughs.
“Our American Express does,” she corrects, and starts kissing him as I walk out onto the balcony to look over the city. My heart is pounding, and I feel worlds away from where I was yesterday. Nothing bad can happen here. I’m marrying the man I love, and taking control of my life. I’m going to make it better. Everything is going to be better.