He's not wrong. This game was as rough as the last, but Drew has kept to his word and stayed true to himself—no parties, dates, celebrations—much to Golden City's dismay.
"They'll get over it. And they'll getused toit."
"By tomorrow at 11a.m.?"
My lips turn in as I hide my doubt. "You keep doing what you're doing, and they'll move on to someone else's drama before you know it."
Drew grins in that way that makes my heart melt and my panties wet. "I think you underestimate your future boyfriend's fan base."
My cheeks grow much warmer than they should as a thirty-one-year-old woman. Drew's used that term so frequently this past week that the crazy is finally starting to wear off, but it's still so wild to think about for the two of us.
"You're ridiculous," I answer.
"It's true."
Remembering Alex's words from just last week, I smile. "So I've been told."
At almost the same time, both our phones buzz, his from his pocket and mine from the coffee table in front of us. We reach for them and groan simultaneously.
"Jane," he says, his voice full of annoyance.
"Is she still begging you to go out with that troll?"
Drew tilts his head down and looks up at me from under raised brows. "You mean, supermodel, Samantha Gray?"
"Isn't that what I said?" I deadpan. We both laugh softly. "I'm kidding. She's literally gorgeous."
"She is," he says. "But she's not you. And yes, that's what Jane's text was about." I nod understandingly as he tucks his phone into his pocket, ignoring her message. "What'd you get?"
I sigh loudly. "My mother."
"Another dinner reminder?"
"As if I could forget," I say, rolling my eyes.
Drew drops his palm onto my thigh, and my body responds as if it's always belonged there. "Is it really that bad?"
I tuck myself under his arm, pulling my legs up onto the couch. "I mean, probably not. It's just my mother's constant reminders and passive-aggressive comments about how I've repeatedly gone against her wishes my entire life."
Drew chuckles, and I pretend to be insulted. "Sorry, it's not funny. I just always thought I was the only one royally fucking with my parent's plan for me."
"Oh, no," I say quickly. "The only difference is, I'm finally coming around to the path my mom wants me to take, and you're just veering off of your dad's."
He goes quiet for a second before he finally replies. "That's because I let him call the shots for the last ten years. At least you were strong enough to do your own thing from the beginning."
I turn my body to face him. He looks at me, and his eyes are full of sadness that I recognize. I've seen the same upset reflected back at me in the mirror countless times. "Drew, I..." Playing with the strings on my sweatshirt, I fight my natural urge to blow off what I'm feeling and replace my true thoughts with something lighter.
But I'm not just doing this for me.
"I don't really think strength had anything to do with it. Sure, it was hard to take the hits, and being an outsider in your own family is, well—it's shitty. But going against the grain doesn't take any less strength than hiding who you really are."
"Yeah, well… I guess we all start somewhere."
A silence slips between us until he pulls away. I shift in my seat to find him looking down at me, his expression serious. "What?" I ask.
"I'm proud of you, too. You know that?" My eyes fall to my lap, twirling one string around my finger. "Hey, look at me."
Drew tilts my chin up and cradles my face in his hands. "I'm serious," he says, his eyes burrowing through me like they did that first night. "You never gave in—never settled. You held steadfast untilyouwere ready. You took hold of your life and never fucking let go." He brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb. "And your mom will be proud too when she comes around."
