Jude comes from a wealthy family too, but from the way they act, you wouldn’t know it. His mom is the CEO of a major retail company, while his dad stayed home with him and his brother and sister growing up. Any time I’ve met them, they’re dressed normally—not the constant black-tie affair my parents aim for—and incredibly kind, not full of themselves at all.
“Maybe they can adopt me,” I remark, grabbing an orange juice bottle from the fridge. “Are your parents looking to add an almost twenty-two-year-old to their family?”
“I’ll inquire on your behalf,” he quips, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Speaking of,” he cranes his neck so he can see me, “what are we doing for your birthday?”
“Nothing,” I growl quickly and forcefully, hoping to shut down future inquiries with the one word.
“Ah, come on,” he cajoles, swinging an arm out, “we have to do something.”
“No, we don’t.”
Last year, I woke up wreaking of alcohol with some other unknown substance coursing through my veins and two naked chicks in a hotel bed.
“Come on, dude. You only turn twenty-two once.” He starts humming the Taylor Swift song. “I’m sure Cree won’t mind if we have it at his place.”
“I’d rather hang out with Vanessa.”
And I would. Despite the fact she continues to remind me we’re not actually together, she’s quickly become one of my favorite people. A night in binge watching her favorite show and eating some pizza or whatever sounds way more enjoyable than a party.
What the fuck is happening? Who am I?
I think I might need a lobotomy because clearly, I’ve lost my sanity.
“Bring Vanessa,” he reasons easily.
“I don’t want a party.” I comb my fingers through my hair, ignoring the pit in my stomach that forms every time I have to engage with my parents.
“What if we go away for a weekend,” he continues, undeterred. “A bunch of us guys and girls. It could be fun.”
“Maybe.” I scrub my hand down my face. “I have to go.”
“Great, I’ll find a place and get it booked.”
“That’s not what I—”
“La, la, la,” the douche ignores me.
I don’t have time to argue with him, though. I’m already running late.
By the time my Porsche screeches to a stop in front of Vanessa’s dorm, she’s already stubbornly waiting outside—to prevent me from coming up to get her—looking hot as fuck in a blue wrap dress that comes down to her knees, with long sleeves. It’s not scandalous in any way, but blood rushes to my dick despite that fact, because this girl turns me on like no other.
I take a deep breath, thinking about baby turtles and other random shit that doesn’t involve peeling that dress off of her, and hop out to open the door for her.
“I can get the door,” she protests, her dark hair curling around her breasts.
I lean in, the scent of her perfume. “Citrus and flowers,” I murmur.
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, embarrassed I said that out loud. “And we’ve been over this, Van. I know you’re capable of getting your own door, but I want to, because it makes me feel good to serve you.”
She gives a soft laugh, pausing before she gets in the car. “Serve me, huh?”
She has no idea how much I’d love to serve and worship her. “Y-Yeah,” I clear my throat.
Saying no more, she sits down, and I close the door.
Taking a deep breath, I straighten my tie. It’s going to be a long ass night.
“You’re awfully quiet this evening, son.” My father cuts into his steak, bringing the rare bite to his lips. He pauses there, arching a brow as he waits for me to comment.
“A lot on my mind,” I say in a clear tone, despite the fact I want nothing more than to grumble at him.
There’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, that tiny piece of steak hovering inches away from his thin lips. “You’re not failing, are you?”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes and snap at him. “No.”
He finally sticks the bite in his mouth. Chews. Slowly. Drawing it out. His eyes slide to Vanessa, sizing her up. “She’s not pregnant, is she?”
She stiffens beside me, shoulders straight. “She is sitting right here,” Vanessa speaks before I can, “and no, I’m not pregnant. I’m sorry to disappoint you, since I know you’re so desperate for grandchildren, and no doubt will be a fluffy bear of a grandfather, but alas, the red river is still running strong and true.”
I have to press my lips together to keep from laughing. Even my mom looks like she’s struggling not to chuckle. She presses her napkin to her mouth to hide the twitch in her lips.
My father’s face turns an unsettling shade of red. “Watch your mouth, girl.”
“Why?” She blinks innocently at him, and I fucking love how she doesn’t cower to him. She was intimidated initially but not anymore. “What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes bulge, the vein in his forehead near bursting. While a part of me wants nothing more than to laugh, the other part of me prickles in fear.
I wonder what people would think if they knew that I was a grown man and still absolutely terrified of my father.
Before he has a chance to respond there’s a crash of thunder so loud it somehow manages to penetrate the thick walls of the mansion. My mom startles, her fork clattering to her plate and the same hand flying up to press against her chest.
“Oh, my—was that thunder? I’d swear rain wasn’t in the forecast. Mae!” She calls out for one of the staff who immediately comes scurrying. “Is there a storm?”
“Yes, ma’am. Looks like it won’t be stopping until early morning. There are flood warnings.”
“Floods?” My mom pales. “Oh, Teddy. Vanessa. You must stay the night. You can’t be driving back to campus in this.” Both Vanessa and I protest vehemently, neither of us wanting to be stuck here over night, but she won’t take no for an answer. “It’s not safe. I would never forgive myself if you two were in an accident. Mae will prepare your room for you and don’t worry Vanessa, you’ll stay with Teddy, I’m not under any illusions that you two are waiting for marriage.” She winks at Vanessa who looks like she’d rather die than spend the night in my old room.
“Mom, I’m sure it’s really not that bad.” Unfortunately for me I’ve barely finished speaking when there’s another loud clap.
Fucking hell.
She purses her lips and dips her chin at the same time, and I know we’re not getting out of here tonight.
Across the table my father throws down his napkin, gets up, and leaves the room.
“I can’t believe this.” Vanessa crosses her arms, eyes roaming around my room.
“Trust me,” I eye the king-size bed, “I’m not happy about it either.”
Sharing a bed with Vanessa? That’s something I’ll never complain about it. But doing it inside my childhood prison? Fuck no.
She frowns, letting her arms drop from beneath her breasts—breasts that I was most definitely not checking out. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs softly, “I’m sure this is even worse for you.”