He’s a security specialist and my dad is his boss. He is “single but looking.” At that, I could have punched him because he glanced atmywoman.
“And you two? Have you been together for long?” he asks.
I grumble.
“We’re—” Lilly starts, and I pin her with a stare.
“It’s complicated.”
Better than just friends.
When he finally leaves, she says, “He seemed nice.”
Whatever she sees on my face makes her giggle. And then she leans into me, caressing my arm, and grounding me.
Mine. Just fucking mine. Period.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LILLY
The next morning,Ian and I walk side by side down the hall before waiting for the elevator to meet his parents in the dining room.
Some other guests occupy the seats around the long table, and he introduces me as Lilly, a dear friend, with a clenched jaw.
I offer him an encouraging smile, and his facial features relax.Weknow. That’s what matters.
Amanda is a sweetheart, fussing over me as she ensures I am comfortable. Rufus eyes me with a warm expression. I feel as if I have been a part of their family forever. All my nerves vanish. I am grateful for their approval. It must be hard for Ian not to receive it from my father. Yet, because he will.
I am thinking about giving my father an ultimatum. He either accepts us or not. Ian will be the man at my side, in my life. It’s him or no one else.
When breakfast ends, I excuse myself, pointing at the garden to show Ian where I am going.
I take out my phone to call Amelie, thinking they must be on their way. The conversation I had with Ian yesterday and meeting Eric made me think of a good push.
Sitting down on the bench, I pull my hair into a high ponytail—too warm to let it hang down my back.
Amelie answers, and I put her on speaker. I know she loves Levi, but her hurt goes deep, so I tell her all about Eric.
She forces a giggle, doing that fake cheer on purpose to provoke Levi.
“Are you sure you want to hook me up with him?” she says playfully, and a groan rumbles behind me. Ian takes the phone from my hand, and after a quick talk, he hangs up.
He lifts a brow, expectancy sharpening his features.
“It’s not what you think,” I hurry to say.
In one swift move, he cages me in, backing me into the bench.
He cocks his head, his deep eyes boring into mine. “Do you want to date someone else?”
My lips tingle with the heat behind his gaze.
I shake my head, and he brushes his nose against my cheek. I grip the edges of the bench—the intensity making me all dizzy.
“Who will you date?”
My heart clamors in my chest, pumping a wild rhythm. “You.”
