I try not to shudder at her cougar-like gawking.
“I work out every day. Kind of a prerequisite for hockey.”
Claire continues to stare, making everyone feel uncomfortable as fuck.
Mia sighs under her breath. “Mom, please.”
“What?” Claire asks. Then, to me, she says, “Maybe you could show my daughter how to eat properly. She’s struggled with her weight her entire life. She lacks all the discipline. I had to have her dress altered last night because she’s let herself go once again.”
The mean bite to her voice has my hackles rising.
“Have you thought about what we discussed last night?” Claire continues, her attention back on Mia, a sneer plastered on her plastic face.
“Mom,” Mia warns, almost begging her not to continue.
“There’s nothing wrong with getting a little help,” Claire states. “The surgery would curb your appetite.”
What in the actual fuck?
“Claire,” Harold warns, his tone failing to sound firm like I’m sure he intends.
It’s one thing to hear Mia tell me her relationship with her mom is strained, but it’s another to hear a mother talk shit to her daughter about her weight like she’s obese.
“I think Mia’s weight is perfect. She’s beautiful just the way she is,” I tell Claire, my voice rumbling with the authority to put this woman in her place that Harold so clearly lacks. I grab two bagels and drop them onto our plates. I slather them each with cream cheese and hand Mia one. Then, I lean in close and whisper just loud enough I know her mom can hear me, “I happen to think you’re hot as hell.”
Mia cracks a smile and takes the bagel from me. I notice her eyes are glossy with unshed tears, and I make a mental note to not only never watch another one of Claire’s stupid movies again and make sure my mom never does either, but to buy Mia something with carbs every damn day just to stick it to her asshole mom.
Claire, though, isn’t done circling us like a panther ready to strike. Her sculpted brows are furrowed, reminding me of a fucking villain.
“I’m assuming your friend will be staying at a hotel,” Claire snips, her gaze flitting to Mia coldly.
Mia’s back goes ramrod straight. “I was thinking he could stay here.” She looks at her dad for help. “We have the room.”
Claire scoffs, at the same time Harold says, this time sounding like the goddamn man of the house, “We have plenty of room. He can stay here.”
It’s as if the temperature in the room goes down seventy degrees, with the icy glare Claire shoots at her husband. Mia’s gaze darts between her parents, and I’m about to say I can stay somewhere else, even though it will mean putting it on my credit card, when Harold speaks again.
“We have twelve empty rooms. He can stay here,” he repeats, making Mia smile slightly.
Claire throws her napkin on the table and stands. “If you’re bringing him to the charity function tonight, he better be dressed appropriately,” she says before storming out. I could be wrong, but when she leaves, the temperature rises back to a nice seventy-five degrees.Brayden is here. With me. He flew all the way from Michigan to California just to be here for me. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before. When he first arrived, he opened up to me about him and Drew. I think he assumed when he told me about them I was going to call him gay and push him away, but how can I judge him when Ashton and I are in a similar situation? If I’ve learned anything from this whole ordeal it’s that we can’t choose who we love or who we’re attracted to. Ashton might label himself as gay, but I know deep down he’s attracted to me, yet for whatever reason he doesn’t want to be.
And I can accept that. I really can. If he doesn’t want to be with me, if he doesn’t want to accept that there’s something between us, I can respect it. But what scares me is him pushing me away, the same way Drew pushed Brayden away. I love Ashton, and as much as I would’ve loved to see where things could go with us, his friendship is more important to me. Now I’m scared to death he’s going to pull a Drew and I’m going to lose him for good. All I want is to hop on a plane and run home to beg him not to do this to us, but I can’t do that. Because I’m stuck here until tomorrow night.
But at least if I have to be stuck here, it’s nice to have Brayden with me. This morning at breakfast Mom did what she always does. She put me down. I’m used to just taking it, because God forbid Dad ever stick up for me. So I was shocked when Brayden jumped in like a white knight.