Her words echo that of my therapist. I don’t know why I don’t believe them. Maybe it’s because I remember the time Mom cheated on Dad and hurt him so bad, I thought they were going to divorce. They yelled so fucking much. I would try and lighten the mood with jokes, albeit inappropriate ones. Mom would laugh to piss off Dad, who would ultimately storm away. They fixed their marriage, but I’d already settled into the role of jokester. If Dad was mad at me, he wasn’t mad at her. If he wasn’t mad at her, they stayed married.
Hollowness settles in my gut.
I guess in some deep-down way, maybe I feel like I somehow keep them together in my weird-ass, black sheep way.
Can’t wait to drop that epiphany bomb on my therapist.
“What about your parents?” I probe. “You hate yours.”
“Because they’re actually the worst. Just ask Brayden.”
The car grows quiet again. Just ask Brayden. Because he fucking flew out there like a goddamn knight in shining armor to comfort her when I was being an asshole. Fuck. I stew over that the entire way back to the apartment. When we park, I shut off the car and sigh, but make no moves to get out.
“It kills me that he knows things I don’t know about you,” I murmur, slicing my eyes her way.
“You never ask.”
I feel the sting of her words, a painful slash through my heart. “Why do you hate them, Mia? Tell me more than the surface bullshit you’ve told me in the past.”
“Dad is Mom’s puppet,” she says sadly. “Mom is a vicious wicked witch who never fails to tell me how I’m not smart enough, not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not proper enough. Never enough.”
“Fuck your mom,” I growl. “Get over here.”
She unbuckles and climbs across the console, settling in my lap. It’s squished in my little car, but she fits snugly between me and the steering wheel. I stroke her hair and kiss her neck.
“I think you’re perfect. My sweet, perfect Mia.”
“He always chooses her over me,” she whispers. “Like I’m just an accessory that comes with the title of husband.” She turns and meets my stare, her lips inches from mine. “When I met you this past summer, I felt like I finally belonged to someone. Sure, we were just friends, but I felt like you’d chosen me of all the people to be yours.”
“You are mine,” I remind her.
“For a bit I wasn’t,” she says, her bottom lip wobbling. “You chose…” Her eyes water. “You didn’t choose me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She kisses my lips. “I’m glad you eventually did.”
I slide my palm up her throat and grip her jaw, caressing her with my thumb. “I’ll always choose you. Don’t let your pussy dad or your mean-ass mom ever make you doubt that again.”
She smiles, warming me with her light. “I don’t. Not anymore. Thank you for the date. I had fun.”
Dates are supposed to be romantic, not fun, but she seems happy and that’s all that matters.
“Plenty more pizza dates in our future.” I pull her down for a dizzying kiss. I dominate her mouth with my tongue until we’re both breathless and my dick is painfully hard. “Ready to have a naked video game date now?”
Her giggle is cute as fuck. “No way. Drew might walk in and see.”
“Like we’re not the two hottest people he’s ever laid eyes on?” I tease. “Oh, what a hardship on Drew’s poor virgin eyes.”
She laughs, swatting my arm. “You’re insane.” Then she covers my mouth with my palm. “Don’t say it.”
Insane for you.
My eyes must say it for me because she laughs again.
I mumble out words and nip at her hand until she releases me. “I wasn’t going to say that,” I lie.
Her dark eyebrow quirks in challenge. “That so? What were you going to say?”
I stare at her for a long time and then shrug. “I forgot. You distracted me with your pretty dick sucking lips.”
“Ashton!”
“MiMi,” I throw back, pretending to be just as scandalized as she is.
Her phone buzzes from her hoodie pocket. She retrieves it to read the text. The beautiful smile fades away, giving me a glimpse of the girl her mother has spent her entire life belittling to the point she has a fucking complex.
“What did she say?” I growl.
Her lips part, her brows furrowing. “How did you know it was my mom?”
“Because I’ve never seen that look before, and after you explained what a bitch she is, I connected the dots all on my own. You’re not the only smart one around here.”
Her smile is back. “Cocky dork.”
“Don’t call my cock a dork.”
“Oh my God,” she groans. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re dating a cocky dork.” I smirk at her. “What did the wicked witch of the west say?”