We sit out on the deck for what seems like both an eternity and only a moment, wrapped in each other's arms as the sun sets. Something shifted today. I know that this week will be difficult, but I'm ready to face it. I’m ready to face anything with Ledger by my side.
Chapter twenty-five
Even in my wildest dreams, I don’t think I could have imagined what a comedy of errors this week would be. It started with Sloane ripping the bandage off and telling her parents the morning they arrived that she and Dean had broken up. She and I had planned on brunch the next day for my introduction as his replacement,although it's hard to call me the replacement when he should never have been anywhere near what’s cosmically mine in the first place.Her mom apparently lost her shit at the news of their breakup and spent the evening and most of the next day on the phone with Dean’s mom while her dad tried to smooth things over from a business perspective with the Christensens. Then, a kitchen fire at Rendezvous kept me in the city all day. Luckily, no one was injured, but it will affect our operations for at least the next two weeks while construction crews are in and out. Thankfully, I have Jack to handle most of that shit show.
Our new plans for a group dinner on Wednesday were once again thwarted by Sloane’s mom, who decided they needed a “girls’ shopping day” even though, according to Sloane, she absolutely hates shopping.
Which brings me to my current situation, which is far from fucking ideal. Thanksgiving fights have been a tradition at the arena for as long as I can remember, and although I've never participated, I'll attend to support friends in high-profile bouts. This morning, some fuckers from out of town thought it would be a good idea to crash the action and start a melee involving not only scheduled fighters but spectators too. Shit got out of hand quickly... and before I knew it, I was fighting one asshole while another sucker punched me from the side.
Things wrapped up quickly after that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m about to show upbarelyon time to Sloane’s apartment for Thanksgiving lunch on my bike, dressed in jeans, boots, and a T-shirt showing off both sleeves of tats.With a fucking swollen, split lipfrom the asshole’s cheap shot. Sloane has already told me about her mom’s pet peeve for punctuality, if only with people she doesn’t like. Based on how she took the news of my existence when Sloane finally told her, I’m squarely on that list.
I pull into the complex as quietly as possible on the bike, hoping to avoid her parents seeing it as a part of the first impression. Turning the final corner with a bit more throttle than I meant to, I immediately draw the gaze of three people standing around a turkey fryer. Which can only mean that I’m looking at all three members of the Johnson family, and my first impression is officially fucked.
Since the cat is already out of the bag, I might as well go ahead and dive right in. I pull into the nearest parking spot, pop my kickstand, remove my helmet, and head to see my angelfor the first time in five days. God, she looks beautiful. She’s dressed a little more modestly since her parents are around, but her Thanksgiving outfit is still so fucking cute. I knew about her embroidered turkey sweater since I was with her when she squealed in excitement and ordered it while online shopping, but I didn’t know she would pair it with a miniskirt and ankle boots.Delectable.Before I know it, I’m standing in front of her, holding her face tightly with both hands, and kissing her like a starving man. And I am. It’s been days since I’ve seen her, days since I’ve eaten that perfect pussy, and I’m officially over it. I have my hands around her waist, ready to throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to my cave, when I’m finally startled out of my Sloane-induced stupor.
“Ledger!”
Blinking, I realize Sloane is glaring up at me like she’s been saying my name repeatedly, and she’s officially had to resort to yelling to get my attention. Oops.
“Hi, Angel,” I manage, still trying to escape her thrall. I reach back down for a chaste kiss, but she turns so I hit her cheek instead.Shit.I’ve already upset her. I’m officially on my back foot here, and it’s gonna take every bit of my charm to weasel my way out of this one. Not that I’ve ever tried using my charm on anyone’s parents, but surely it’ll translate at least a little.
Giving myself one more mental kick in the pants, I straighten up and turn to face the scowling Johnsons, giving them a winning smile. Reaching out to shake Janice’s hand first, I immediately remember the bouquet I was planning to bring so as not to show up empty-handed. Nothing for it now, I suppose.
“Mrs. Johnson, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Ledger Sinclair.”
Her hands and eyes are ice cold as she replies, “It’s lovely to meet you too, Mr. Sinclair. Although I can’t necessarily say ‘finally’ since we’ve only known about your existence for a few days.”
My smile fades, but I soldier on, shaking Sloane’s dad’s hand and receiving a grunt and a glare before he turns back to the turkey. “Janice, I think it’s almost ready if you’ll bring the pan out. Sloane, go ahead and make sure the table is set for four now that Mr. Sinclair has arrived.”
“Yes, sir,” Sloane mumbles, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the apartment. She pulls me into the hallway while her mom piddles around in the kitchen. “What the actual heck, Ledger? What happened to your lip? Why are you dressed like this, and on your bike? It’s like you want them to hate you.”
It’s already been a hell of a morning, and this isnotthe welcome I expected from Sloane.
“It’s nice to see you too. I’ve missed the hell out of you. Sorry that I’m not up to your standards today for meeting your parents.”
I sound like a whiny bitch, even to my own ears, but I feel like I’m going crazy without her at home, and she’s clearly under a ton of stress here. Frustrated, I run a hand through my hair, realizing it’s getting a little long on the top, and I could have used a trim and a shave. Maybe she has a point that I didn’t bring my A game today.
“I can’t even believe you went to the fights this morning. Could that not have waited? Are you okay, or are you hurtworse than just the lip?” she asks, and seeing tears beginning to form in her eyes has me feeling guilty as hell.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I say, pulling her in for a hug and giving her a kiss on the top of her head, sniffing her coconut shampoo to ground me. “I don’t have any excuses for the fight. All I can do is put my best foot forward from here on out, okay?”
She takes a deep breath and plasters on an artificial smile. “You’re right, we need to be a united front or they’ll take us down. Come on, it’s time for Thanksgiving with the Johnsons.”
I wish I could go back to an hour ago when I thought this week couldn't get any worse, becauseholy fuck.I'm wracking my brain trying to remember if my father wasthisbad, and while I'm almost certain he wasn’t, it's been long enough that I really can't be sure.
Our lunch started off polite, if a bit stilted, with Sloane’s parents asking what I do for work before heavily insinuating they didn't believe me. Particularly in light of the expense of Sloane’s car.
Things rapidly took a negative turn when Mrs. Johnson decided to rehash embarrassing tales of Sloane, starting all the way back to when she began to walk.
“I'd love to see pictures of Sloane as a baby, Mrs. Johnson,” I say, assuming that she would jump to reminisce over how cute her child was growing up.
“Ugh, she wasn't much to look at as a baby, I'm afraid. She didn't grow into her ears until she was around four, and she closely resembled Scott’s father for almost a year.”
I see Sloane blush a deep red and cast her eyes downward to fiddle with the napkin in her lap, and I can feel my blood pressure rising. I really thought I could be the bigger person here, but hearing her mom continue with this derogatory bullshit about my angel is severely testing me.
“I find it hard to believe she's ever been anything but absolutely perfect,” I say, in a quiet but even tone that immediately has all eyes on me. Reaching for my glass of tea, I continue matter-of-factly, “I certainly hope all of our babies look just like her.”
Time seems to slow as I sip my drink, with Scott growing redder in the face than I’ve ever seen a human and Janice looking like she’s seconds from passing out. I’m too scared to look at Sloane, knowing that she probably wishes I hadn’t said more than two words during this meal, let alone uttered a sentence implying I’m going to fuck their daughter at some point.If only they knew what I’ve done…
