What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

I fall asleep with him holding me from behind and those words in my head “our secret.” I decide I like the idea of us sharing a secret together rather than keeping secrets from each other. And we both have secrets. Maybe too many for our own good.

I wake to a buzzing sound, a blast of sunlight that tries to burn out my eyeballs. The buzzing sound is my cellphone and I grab it to find my mother’s number on caller ID. I jolt to a sitting position, my heart pounding with irrational fear. Dash is now sitting up next to me and I drag the sheet up my body even as I answer the call. “Mom? Are you okay?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I thought we were having brunch today? It’s already ten.”

“You said next Sunday.”

“This is next Sunday.”

“No. You said a week from Saturday you were home.”

“Did I? Well, I’m home, honey,” she singsongs. “Are you coming over?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’m going to shower now. I’ll be there soon.” I disconnect and glance at Dash. “I was supposed to be at my mom’s for brunch.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “And I have no car.”

“I’ll take you,” he says easily. “No problem. Don’t fret.”

I study him a moment. “I—Dash I don’t mean to make this awkward, but—”

He frowns. “You don’t want me to take you?”

“No,” I say quickly, daring to add, “just the opposite. My mom and stepdad are huge fans of your books and the movies. Would you—” I hesitate, afraid of how he’ll read this. We said, no forever, which usually means no family. A rule we’ve already broken with his sister so maybe—

He arches a brow. “Would I what?”

“You want to come? I mean it’s waffles again, but really good waffles,” I say, quickly adding, “and we don’t have to tell my mom and stepdad we’re involved. I can say you’re a friend I met through my job. My mom knows I want to do things for her right now.”

He laughs. “So you did me?”

I poke his naked chest. “That was a horrible joke.”

“I am a friend from your job, just a very good friend who happens to know what sounds you make when you orgasm.” Despite all we’ve done together, my cheeks heat. He pushes me down on the bed and leans over me. “What are you, and they, going to say when I call you cupcake?”

“They’ll know what’s going on.”

“Alright then,” he says. “Let’s go shower. Cupcake.” He winks and pushes off of me, and by the time I’m sitting, he’s walking toward the bathroom, naked. He’s so very perfectly naked and his ass is so very perfectly—well perfect. I have no other words. As for the brunch, I’m not sure what I just got myself into, but I decide I’ll try to figure it out in the shower—with Dash.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

It’s eleven-fifteen when Dash and I arrive at my mother’s place. “Pull in at the side of the house so she can’t see your car,” I say. “It kind of stands out and I want to surprise her inside, not out.”

He obliges and parks outside the garage. “What else?” he says.

“I’m sorry in advance. They’re going to act like crazy ass fans, Dash.”

“I love my fans,” he says. “So let’s go do this.” He exits the car, and I do the same, meeting up with him at the front bumper. Me in black jeans and an olive-colored sweater while Dash looks incredibly delicious, personifying my own personal idea of “the hot, famous author” look in black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater.

We head for the back entrance of the upper-middle-class home, my mother and stepfather worked hard to own, when my mother could have easily gotten rich off my father. I’m proud that she didn’t. I’m proud of who she is and I can only aspire to live my life as honestly as she has. And as for my stepfather, Barry is an honorable man. A good man. Nothing like my father and apparently Dash’s father, as well.

Once we’re at the door, I don’t bother to knock. I open it and lean in, calling out, “Hello, hello! Coming in.”

“In the kitchen, honey,” my mother shouts back and I smile, stepping inside and motioning Dash forward, excited because she will be excited about meeting him.

Dash and I walk through the mudroom and turn right into the kitchen.

We find my mother behind the shiny white oversized island, mixing something in a big bowl, her gaze downturned. Unbidden, my chest pinches, and I suck in a breath at the sight of her, still looking so unlike herself. My mom is fifty-seven, petite, athletic, a dedicated runner, and until her cancer, she looked much younger than her years. But now—now her muscle tone is gone and her body is just so thin. Dash must sense my reaction, his hand settling on my shoulder.