The idea of another meal that consists of grilled chicken and vegetables is what finally makes me break. I hate the idea of disappointed Lisette, so I wait until her night off and toss the pre-made meal into the trash while I order McDonald’s for delivery.
When Asher walks into the penthouse living room, he finds me sitting crisscrossed on the too-hard gray sofa, wearing pajama shorts and a Morgan Christmas Tree Farm t-shirt, with the bag of greasy food in my lap and my eyes glued to the ten-minute video of someone reviewing their latest read.
“Hi.” I nearly choke on a fry, surprised to see him here.
"We have a table." His voice is stern and deep, and even though I'm insulted by the insinuation that I should eat my fast food at the table instead of on the couch, I still can't help but like the sound of it.
Commanding.
My brain flashes back to the night we met, when his controlled voice told me to breathe after I spilt his drink on him and subsequently ended my short career as a waitress.
I listened easily. There was a bit of freedom in that moment, letting someone else tell me what to do without any overthinking.
And then again during the engagement photos when he told me to remember that I’m in love with him and guided me through all the motions. Each time his praise had made me feeling like I was floating, anchored down only by his voice, his praise, his commands.
"I know." From the corner of my eye, I can see Asher's head tilt as if he's assessing me.
"What are you watching?" he asks curiously.
"TikTok." I hold out the device, the woman still holding the book and talking through her feelings on it.
"Why is she talking about a book?"
"The algorithm knows I like reading." I shrug.
"You watch videos of people talking about books?" His eyebrow quirks, and I'm not sure if he's questioning my sanity or making fun of me.
"Yes..."
He nods, an amused look still lingering on his features. "Are you able to take a break from your videos to prep for meeting my family?"
“I’m meeting your family?” I practically choke. I’m not sure if I’m more surprised by that, or the fact that he’s going to actually spend time with me tonight.
After my research session with Kacey, I feel like I know too much about his family, but at the same time, not nearly enough.
“This Friday, we’ll have dinner with them. So, we need to go over a few things.”
Swallowing roughly, I lock my phone, silencing the video. "Sure."
"I'm going to change, and then we'll start."
I ball up the wrapper from my cheeseburger and pack up my fast-food garbage while Asher changes. Prepping for meeting his family seems like an overwhelming task. There are so many things that could go wrong. So many things that I could mess up that would send our whole deal down the drain.
After I toss out my trash, I grab a peppermint candy from the bowl Lisette keeps on the counter, hoping it’ll soothe my nerves.
When Asher comes back out, he's dressed in a pair of gray joggers and a plain black t-shirt.
The joggers hang low on his hips, exposing a sliver of toned stomach where the hem of his shirt rides up slightly. My eyes trace the sharp V that disappears beneath the waistband before I force myself to look away.
Get it together.
He settles onto the opposite end of the couch, close enough that I catch the scent of cedar and sea salt mixed with something warm.
"Let's start," he says, turning toward me. One arm stretches across the back of the couch, his fingers mere inches from my shoulder. "My parents will be watching everything. Every touch, every glance, every word."
I nod, throat dry.
“Let’s start with our story. When someone asks how we met, you’ll say through mutual friends. When they ask what attracted you to me, you’ll mention my confidence, my ambition.”
