I’m not going to fucking survive this weekend.
SEVEN
ARCHANGEL
“Please be good,” I say as we pull up to the valet.
“What does that even mean?” Wolfe asks, and he’s got a point.
“I don’t know. Don’t cause a problem on purpose?”
“Are you asking me?” he counters, and I’m regretting every choice I’ve ever made, but we don’t have time to discuss further because we’re led back to the private room. “You allowed me to come, this is on you.”
He’s right, and I have regrets.
Wolfe turns every head as we walk. Not only is he a giant, but he’s also heavily tattooed, which isn’t common here. He wears the sleeves of his button-down rolled up, along with the first two buttons of the shirt undone, revealing some of his dark chest hair and a glimpse of his collarbone tattoos. It should be illegal for him to be this sexy, and everyone in the restaurant is taking notice.
I should enjoy it for the time being, but I can’t. It’s only a matter of time before he finds a woman to be with. Maybe sticking it to my sister will give him enough closure to finally move on.
The table is packed, and I realize this isn’t just my immediate family. It’s my grandfather, a few aunts, their husbands, and my cousins.
I check my watch. We’re early.
Did they tell everyone else an earlier time?
We take the last two seats at the table, and one by one, everyone goes silent, as they notice us, leaving my sister as the last. She turns, putting on a fake smile until she realizes who’s next to me.
“Hi, Steph,” Wolfe says way too loud for the stone-cold environment.
“What are you doing…” Steph seems to be short-circuiting. “Did your boyfriend bail, Wilder?” she finally says smugly.
“Nope,” I say, popping the p, refusing to elaborate.
No one says a word. They are used to Wolfe coming to everything with me, but I’m sure they think my bringing him is a social faux pas, considering he’s Steph’s ex. But does anyone have the guts to ask?
The waiter must sense the awkwardness because he appears and takes our drink order, including second drinks for my mother and father.
Finally, when the waiter leaves, my mother speaks. “It’s nice to see you, Atticus.” She uses Wolfe’s first name and he cringes. “But I thought you were bringing your boyfriend, Wilder?”
Before I can answer, Wolfe jumps in: “He did.”
My family exchanges looks, and I can tell some of them are beginning to put it together.
“Well, where is he?” Mother asks, turning dramatically to look around. “We don’t have enough seats because you told us…” She trails off as Wolfe grabs my hand, ruining all the plans I had to go bury myself in the yard.
He lifts our joined hands above the table. “Things just have a way of working out, don’t they?”
A few people cough into their napkins.
My mother is a stoic Southern socialite, so she doesn’t blanch. “Lovely.”
Mark, to his credit, gets up and holds his hand out. “I’m Mark. It’s so wonderful to meet you both...” He trails off as he narrows his eyes, realization dawning in his expression. “You play for the Gods as well…”
“I do.” Wolfe stands, dwarfing him and taking his hand. “Thank you for inviting us. It’s such a great time to get to know each other, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Mark looks at my sister.
She seems just as confused. I shrug because I never know what Wolfe is up to.
