I pushed my chair back and moved my gaze to Dad. “May I be excused? I’m full.”
A soft chuckle of laughter came from Mom’s direction, and I ground my teeth.
Paxton pulled his hand back, but I could feel his eyes on me.
“Sure, honey.” Dad nodded, then swiveled his neck toward Mom. “Charlotte, I think you’ve had enough wine tonight.”
She raised an eyebrow, then deliberately took another drink.
Throwing the napkin onto the chair, I marched to the foyer, then up the stairs to my room.
When I reached the calm and safety of my sanctuary, I shut the door and leaned against the wood.
Why do I care what Mom thinks?I hated the power she wielded over me with her hurtful words.
Hot tears pooled in my eyes and I threw myself onto the bed, shoving my face into the pillows to muffle my sobs.
She’d love it if she heard me crying.
Clenching the soft pillows, I released my fury quietly.Only two more years, I can do this, then I’m out of here.
Many minutes later, when my cries became quieter and my chest hitched from uneven breaths, something warm covered my shoulder.
Who’s in here and how long have they been watching me cry?
With dread, still on my stomach, I looked over my shoulder to see Paxton sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at me.
“She’s wrong, you know. I think you’re perfect.” His low voice, smooth like melted caramel, caressed and warmed my heart.
“I-I don’t want to be perfect. I just want to be me, Pax, but I don’t even know who that is.” I lifted myself to a sitting position, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed to rest on the carpet.
Hesitantly, he reached over with one arm and pulled me to his side.
I would normally be too embarrassed to accept the gesture, but for some reason, Paxton felt safe, and safety had been something I craved.
Leaning my head against his shoulder, I sighed and wiped my eyes.
With his other hand, he stroked my hair with a soothing touch. “Then start fighting, CC. Tell her how she makes you feel.”
CC?
Cotton Candy. I couldn’t decide if the nickname was cute or irritating.
“She wouldn’t care.”
He dug in his front jeans pocket, then pulled out a couple of wadded tissues. “Here. They’re clean.”
I took them, wiped my cheeks, then blew my nose, tossing the used tissues into the trashcan on the other side of my nightstand.
“Have you ever tried telling her?” he asked, leaning back to stare into my face. “Likereallytry to convey how you feel when she belittles you like that?”
“No, and I’m not starting tonight. I just want to graduate and get the fuck out of here.”
“Terri Kingston,” he said, his voice raised in mock surprise. “I am quite offended a girl of your standing would say—” He widened his ocean eyes, the blue turning lighter as he smiled. “—the wordfuck.”
A laugh poured out of me, and I gave his chest a playful shove. “You thought I was all prim and proper, huh?”
“I was certainly hoping that was just a guise.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Did it feel good to say that?”
