After one feverish night with Tyler Evans, Rory is never supposed to see the man draped in enigmas and devilish charms again.
Six months later, she's deep into a summer fling with Chace. As their fling becomes a committed relationship, she's adamant...
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"Holy shit." My breath touches the passenger side window as Chace drives up to his parent's mansion. Better yet, palace would better describe it. Acres of shamrock and emerald extend towards the horizon and beyond, making the small patch of grass next to my apartment look like dirt. "Are you sure your dad isn't a sultan or something?" My face is glued to my window as we ascend the sand-colored stone path lined with fountains, statues, and heavy palm trees.
I pull down the skirt to my dress and resist the urge to chew on my bottom lip in fear of scraping off the red stain. It's far too short. A mere glance at my thighs, thick with cellulite, sends my pulse into a frenzy. I should have picked something classier.
"Imagine living here for nearly fifteen years." Chace's voice is soft as he parks in front of a porcelain six-car garage. The chic design of the mansion is orgasmic with its warm cream tones and beige walls, brown roofing, and gold exterior bordering windows and doorways. Who knew people actually lived in a Pinterest aesthetic?
"So, you grew up this rich?" I spare him a glance while failing miserably to cover my breasts with the low neckline of my dress. Butterflies rip my empty stomach to shreds.
"Basically." Chace huffs and runs his fingers through his neatly combed hair. He's more dressed up than usual with a blue button-down that accents the vibrancy of his eyes and tan slacks that make his ass and legs look delicious. I told him that he was a godsend when he showed up at my apartment all dressed up, but he merely blushed and waved me away.
My fidgeting hands grab his attention as I continue to stretch my dress. He scowls. "Stop that. You look amazing."
"And like a whore."
"Don't say that." He angles himself towards me with a stern look. "I told you to be yourself, okay? I want them to see you, not a version of you that you think you should be."
My breasts spilling from my dress beg to differ. "I know, but-"
"Stop it."
"Chace-"
"Rory."
"Ugh!" I drop my hands on my lap. "Fine. Fine. If you don't think your dad is going to judge me over this dress, fine."
"We don't need my dad's approval." He leans over and brushes loving lips over mine, leaving the scent of mint and aftershave behind. The warmth of his body is reassuring, but still not enough.
I pout against his lips. "My tummy hurts. I don't want to do this."
He cups my cheek. "There's no need to be-" Sighing, he slides his fingers under my chin to tilt my face. The skies resting in his eyes carve tender promises of peace into my tightened lungs. "Who am I kidding? It's okay to be nervous. I'm going to be nervous when I meet your family."
