“Great,” Mom says to the resounding silence.
I grit my teeth. My feelings never mattered in this house when I was a kid, and they mean nothing to my parents now. Continuing with this farce of a dinner is the last thing I want to do, but I’m too proud to leave. I also don’t want Brooks to deal with the backlash.
“So, Wesley—” my mother starts.
“Wes,” he corrects, voice low and gruff. I place my hand on top of his hand already on my knee, grateful that we’re a team.
“Why don’t you tell us how you met our Isabella?”
Wes glances sideways at me, and I roll my eyes. My mother not using my chosen name is the least of my complaints.
“Islaand I met through my brother, her new skating partner.”
My mother makes a clicking sound with her mouth. “Ah, well, that’s….” She struggles to come up with an adjective and gives up trying. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Isabella has always been dedicated to her skating more than anything else.”
A compliment wrapped in a critique. A Monica Covington special.
“She’s brilliant,” Wes replies without hesitation.
My gaze is glued to the side of his head, admiring the shape of his mouth, as he sings my praises to my family. He’s never been more attractive to me than in this moment.
“I remember the first time I saw her skate,” he continues, gaze bouncing around the table, but I know these words are for me. “I was annoyed that I missed a pool party for my brother’s skating competition. I was waiting for him when this girl zipped onto the ice, her hair in braids flying behind her as she moved. She made everything look effortless.”
I can’t believe he remembers this.
Wes turns his head to face me and hits me with that smoldering look he’s perfected. Someone might need to scrape me off the floor. “But what stuck with me was that smile you gave the crowd after nailing that last move. So beautiful that for a second I couldn’t catch my breath.”
This is the longest I’ve ever heard Wes Davidson speak in a single go, all to describe the day we first met fourteen years ago, like it’s a core memory for him.
“I didn’t know that you saw me skate that day,” I whisper.
Wes pushes some hair behind my ear, leaning in to reply to me. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Covington.”
A shiver zips up my spine.
“Wait—you’ve known him that long?” Brooks asks, his first out-loud words since we sat down. This dinner is as tough for him as it is for me. He sees our parents more than I do, but his relationship with them is complicated.
“We met a long time ago,” Wes answers, beating me to the punch. “Isla knocked me on my ass, but that’s nothing compared to how she’s turned my life upside down now.”
He’s either a magnificent actor or he means what he says. I’m not sure which option is more terrifying.
“I hope you don’t want children,” Chip spits. “She won’t give them to you. She’s—”
“Think about what you say next very carefully.” Wes’s deep voice is all warning, a threat on my behalf. Even with the shift in our relationship, I’m shocked by his lethal tone and withering stare.
Lorna’s head swivels from my mother to my father. “Do you hear thesethreats?”
Chip pays no attention to his hysterical mother. “Or what? You’ll beat me up?” He turns his tone comical for that second question, as if the idea of Wes giving him a beatdown is absurd. Chip has never been punched in the face before, and it shows.
Wes remains stone-faced as he stares Chip down. “It wouldn’t be the first time I put an asshole in his place.”
I drop my utensils onto the table. “Davidson, can I speak to you?”
Chapter 20
Wes
IfollowIslafromtheroom as her ex stares at me with a smug smile plastered on his face.
