Fuck.
I could stand here and do this, go a few verbal rounds with her . . . but I tuck Story under my arm and walk away instead. Letting me lead, I hold her hand as we weave through the crowd, the party well into the swing of things. “Drink?”
“A double,” she replies.
Glad she’s still holding my hand after that fiasco, I lean down and ask, “A double what?”
“Anything.”
We reach the bar, and I order bourbon on the rocks. Looking at Story, I realize I’ve never seen her drink alcohol besides a few sips of champagne. “What do you normally drink?”
“I don’t really.”
I turn back to the bartender and look at the selection on display. If she doesn’t drink, a double of anything will be the trouble neither of us needs. “A glass of rosé.”
I hand her the glass and take a long drink of mine when he sets it on the bar in front of me. Since people are waiting to place their drink orders, I take Story by the crook of her arm and lead her toward the door that leads to the west-facing balcony. “It’s cold outside, but do you need some fresh air?”
“I think it would be good for a minute.”
I haven’t seen my parents yet, but I’m okay with that after what just happened with Camille. Very few people are outside due to the low temperature, but it gives Story and me a moment alone. I take my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders. “I’m sorry—”
“Cooper,” she says, sighing. “I’m not naïve. Maybe I’m not as classy as Camille, but if that means being catty to someone you don’t know out of jealousy, I’d rather be me.”
“You blow me away by how you handle everything with grace. So don’t think for a minute that you’re not sophisticated.”
She sidles closer and leans against me. I slip my arm under the jacket and around her waist, holding her close and hoping I can keep her warm for just a few minutes more. I’m not sure what lies ahead when she meets my parents, but here right now, I’m happy and hope she is.
I take another drink to warm my insides. When she takes a sip of her wine, I ask, “How is it?”
“Spectacular.”
I smile as the lights reflect in her eyes, mesmerized by this incredible woman. “I meant the wine, though you’re right. The view is pretty spectacular.”
Music invades our peace when the door opens. “I didn’t realize you were here, Cooper,” my mom observes.
I step away from Story like I’m sixteen and was just busted having sex on the couch or something. Since that happened, my reaction is now automatic. When I turn around, my dad is with her as they stare back and forth between Story and me.
Tempted to reach for her hand again but not sure if it’s to comfort her or me, I stop myself when I see her free hand tucked behind her back and the wine held down by her side. The body language isn’t hard to read. “Mom, hi. I’m here.”
She leans in to kiss my cheek before I shake hands with my dad.
“Who’s this?” he asks, his voice gruffer than usual. As he’s much older than my mom, his aging seems to accelerate as visually while my mom hasn’t changed in twenty years.
“Hello,” my mom says to Story before I have a chance to introduce them. “Camille told me our Cooper brought someone with him.” She holds out her hand. “I didn’t see your name on the RSVP list, so this is quite a surprise.”
I step closer, feeling protective of Story. “We’re not staying long.”
My mom levels me with a glare. “That wasn’t the deal we made. Neither was bringing a date, dear.” She smiles, but it’s so fake that it struggles to turn the corners of her mouth north. “What is your name?”
Camille didn’t rattle Story.
My mom does. When she replies, “Story Salenger,” the tremble in her voice is heard. I fucking hate it, and I hate them more for causing it.
Why did I bring her here? It was never going to be different, despite how much I hoped it would change the temperament of our disagreements.
Not satisfied, my mom turns to me as if we’re the only two in the conversation. “I’m not sure how I feel about this.”
“Well, that’s too bad because you’re not the one in this relationship. I am, and I love Story.”
My dad asks, “You love her?” His cynical side gets the better of him. “You’re young. You know nothing about love.”
“This is not the time for this conversation.”
My mom rubs her temple and looks up at the sky as if relief will be found in the stars. I’ve tried to find it myself many times over the years and never lucked out. I found Story instead. That’s when I realized I had been searching in the wrong place all along.