He glanced at his dad, whose startled gaze was also focused on Brett. When their eyes met, AJ offered a little shrug, but his father didn’t look amused.
“I didn’t realize you had tattoos,” Karen said brightly, her cheerful tone betrayed by the tense set of her jaw.
“I have several,” Brett answered with a smile. “A couple on my legs, too.”
That got her another “Oh.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, draw them yourself?”
Brett twisted around to smile at him, too. “Some of them. My dad did the angel, and my older brother did the fish on my leg. They’re both tattoo artists.” A pause. “Like me.”
“I see.” His mother’s mouth tightened.
AJ briefly closed his eyes. He hadn’t asked Brett to lie about what she did for a living. He’d fully expected it to come out today. But he’d hoped his folks might pleasantly surprise him. Welcome Brett into the fold without a shred of judgment or disapproval.
Again, too much to hope for.
What followed was a lengthy discussion revolving around when Brett had gotten her ink done, why she’d done it, whether she planned on doing it again, and the best part, the sanitary implications of her using needles on her skin.
“Brett and her family take precautions to make sure everything is safe and that every piece of equipment is sterilized,” AJ said brusquely. “Tattooing is a growing business, Mom. It’s a respected profession.”
His mother looked so unconvinced, and so revolted, that it triggered a wave of embarrassment. Brett’s cheeks had turned bright red, her lips pressed together as if she were trying to bite her tongue. He didn’t blame her. His mother was being a jerk, and he was so damn ashamed of her behavior.
He was about to force a change of subject when his mother did it for him. “I was meaning to ask you,” she said, turning around to look at him. “Did Tamara get in touch with you?”
AJ froze.
So did Brett, before she swiveled her head too, her eyes voicing a silent question.
Tamara?
“We were chatting on the phone, and she mentioned you still hadn’t called her.” His mother’s tone epitomized casual, but it was clear she wasn’t oblivious to the rising tensions on the patio. “So I gave her your number. She said she sent you a message.”
The look on Brett’s face, a mixture of hurt and accusation, sliced into AJ’s chest like a dull blade. Crap. Tamara had texted him. Last night, in fact, when he’d been in the process of making Brett come on her living room floor. He hadn’t texted back, because, frankly, he didn’t frickin’ want to. But he had been wondering how on earth his old classmate had gotten his number.
Now he had his answer.
He looked at Brett, willing her to let it go, silently promising that he’d explain everything, but she lowered her gaze to her lap.
With that tiny act of rejection, AJ shot to his feet. “Sorry to cut this short, but Brett and I have to go,” he announced. “I forgot we made plans with Gage and Skyler.”
For once, the lie didn’t burn his throat. He’d made up excuses his whole life, and each and every one of them had brought a sense of shame and self-loathing, but not today. If he didn’t extricate Brett from this situation, she would inevitably lose her temper, and if that happened, he knew she’d regret it later.
Bullshit. You’re leaving for your sake, not hers.
Hell. Did it matter whose sake it was for? Neither of them wanted to be here, damn it.
Brett practically leaped to her feet. “Right,” she said in a shaky voice. “I totally forgot about that.”
AJ stole a look at his father, who’d been sitting at the table in silence for the duration of the tattoo interrogation. Tom wore the strangest expression on his face, but for the life of him, AJ couldn’t decipher it. He assumed his father was as appalled by Brett’s “ghastly” appearance as his mother was, and AJ was pissed off at them both
As Brett hurriedly slipped into her socks and shoes, Karen stood up, too. “But you just got here,” she said stiffly.
“I know, I’m sorry.” AJ couldn’t even muster up an apologetic smile. “But we have to go.”
There were no hugs good-bye. No kisses. No assurances that he’d be back soon. He simply whisked Brett into the house, then out of the house, then into the Jeep.
He hadn’t felt anger like this in years. His entire body trembled from it, his blood bubbled with it. His fingers were so stiff it was a miracle he managed to turn the key in the ignition. The temptation to storm back inside and force his folks to apologize to Brett was so overpowering that he fumbled for the gearshift, needing to get the hell away from the house before he did or said something he’d regret.
Before he could put the car in drive, Brett reached for the door handle. “I forgot my cardigan,” she said flatly.
He reached for his own door. “I’ll get it.”
“No.” The response was swift, hard. “I’ll do it. You wait here.”
AJ watched as she ran back to the house, her black hair whipping around her head like a storm cloud. Christ. She was pissed. So was he. He couldn’t believe his mother had brought up Tamara like that. Merrily, deliberately, as if she’d wanted nothing more than to drive a wedge between him and Brett.
He wasn’t going to let that stand. No way in hell. But he needed to take Brett home first. He needed to explain and apologize and get on his frickin’ knees to beg her forgiveness.
Brett was gone for much longer than he liked, but just as AJ was about to go after her, the front door swung open and she reappeared. Her cheeks were flushed, and she had her cardigan draped over one arm.
She slid into the passenger seat without a word. AJ stepped on the gas and drove away without sparing even a peek in the rearview mirror.
“Brett—” he started.
“Not now.” She turned toward the window. “I just…I need a moment to think, okay?”
Frustration shot through him as she avoided his gaze. “I’m so sorry about that Tamara bullshit,” he said softly. “My mom ran into her at the supermarket last month and decided to play matchmaker. I wasn’t interested then, and I’m not interested now. I swear.”
Brett shot him a sidelong glance. “Then why did you take her number?”
He faltered.
“You didn’t use it, so your mother took matters into her own hands, but you did take it, didn’t you?”
He let out a breath. Nodded.
Brett nodded in return. “Of course you did.”
“I never, ever planned on calling her, Brett.”
“I know that, too.” A chord of sorrow clung to her voice. “You took the number to appease your parents. Because Tamara is exactly the type of woman they want you to marry and have kids with. We are talking about Ms. Perfect Cheerleader, right? Tamara from high school?”
He nodded again.
“Yeah, I can see why your mom is so eager for you to end up with her.” Brett mumbled something AJ couldn’t fully make out, but it sounded like “perfect.”
After that, she went quiet again, and this time, when he tried to offer another apology, she simply shifted her eyes back to the passenger window. And there it was—the biting of her bottom lip, the groove in her forehead. She was deep in thought, and AJ sensed that he wasn’t going to like it when she finally clued him in to her thoughts.