Shame Me Not

Rubbing a hand through my hair, I blew out a sigh. It felt like I was living two different lives. The one I wanted where I dated a guy slowly and he treated me with respect. We’d been dating for a few months and now I was meeting his parents. It was the type of relationship parents wanted for their little girl.

Then there was Kevin. The guy I’d known forever—my best friend—and the one I let fuck me and degrade me and use me any way he wanted. The relationship that looked like abuse from the outside, but, to me, felt like the most caring kind of love. He was the one most people would think was a wrong choice. The one I shouldn’t want.

I was a mess.

The knock at the door saved me from any further analyzing. I opened it to find Andrew smiling down on me. His blue eyes shining with excitement and heat as he looked me over, before leaning down to kiss me. His lips lingered and pushed for more. When he pulled back and nipped at my lips, a shock vibrated my body and for the first time, more than a spark lit inside me. Andrew wasn’t usually so forward, but I couldn’t say I didn’t like the extra desire that made his eyes darken. Something was different today and my heart skipped a beat as I thought about what the day held for us.

He looked handsome in a light blue polo, with gray slacks encasing his long legs. Andrew was tall and a little gangly, but muscular enough for his chest to stretch his shirt.

“You look amazing,” he said softly, capturing my hand in his. I let the comfort sink into my skin and spread up my arms. I waited for another shot of heat, chasing the thrill from earlier, but it never came. Just comfort. Maybe the desire would come again later. I had to hope.

“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

He opened my door when we got to the car, and again when we got to the country club. The white building intimidated me with its size and prestige. The warm wood and dark red accents screamed elite. I held on to Andrew a little bit tighter, needing him to guide me. He pulled me to him and before we entered, let his hand drop lower than my waist, his fingertips grazing the top of my bottom. My eyes wide, I caught a glimpse of his smile. I liked this side of Andrew, playful and more forward.

He lifted his hand to my waist when we walked through a doorway that led to a large bright room lined with glass patio doors leading out to a terrace overlooking the golf course below. The rolling hills captured my attention until Andrew spoke. “Ana, this is my mother, Clara, and my father, Lincoln. Mom. Dad. This is Anabelle.”

A tall, thin woman wearing a white maxi skirt and silk top extended her hand. Gold bracelets clinked as we shook hands. She stood tall and proud, her confidence was so much that I felt a residual amount seep into me just being in her presence. “Anabelle, hello. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She smiled and I saw the resemblance between mother and son. He had her sharp nose, dimples, and brilliant blue eyes.

Andrew’s height and black hair came from his father, but his dad was even taller. He stood with his arm around Andrew’s mom, wearing a light gray suit and a coral tie that matched his wife’s blouse. “Andrew has told us many good things about you.”

A nervous laugh escaped, and I looked down to hide my blush. “I’m sure he was too kind. And please, call me Ana.”

As formal as the setting was, the conversation flowed easily. His parents were just as funny as Andrew and it warmed my heart to see the love between them. They’d been married thirty years and still looked at each other like it had only been thirty days. I wanted that. I wanted to reach out and touch it; to feel the love that consumed them.

Andrew took my hand, and I looked at the way it wrapped around mine. I focused on the smoothness of his fingers as they stroked my thumb and I felt a soft, lukewarm desire. Where was the heat from earlier?

“Ana, Andrew told us you’re going to be a teacher. What do you want to teach?” Lincoln asked.

Slipping my hand from Andrew’s, I took a quick sip of my water before answering. “Chemistry.”

“Whew, she’s a smart one Andrew,” Clara said.

“Don’t I know it,” he agreed.

I waved away their easy compliments and turned the conversation away from myself and focused on his mother, “Andrew told me he was following in his dad’s footsteps to become a lawyer, but what do you do, Clara?”