Mom stares at us in shock, and Dad scoffs, picking up his fork and jabbing his pasta with it. “Love? What do you know about love? From what I’ve heard, you aren’t the type for relationships.”
“You’re right,” Kash admits, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I wasn’t until Mila.”
“What do your parents think of your new stance on relationships?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugs.
“Why not? You didn’t tell them about her?”
“No. Quite the opposite actually. Everyone important knows about me and Mila, but to answer your question, I can’t tell my parents because, well, my actual dad is dead, and I couldn’t tell you where my mom has been since I turned eleven and she left after he died.”
Sucking in a breath, I drop my fork on the table. “Let’s go. I’m done.” Standing, I look at the man sitting across from me, the one who gave me life, who made me believe everyone had good in them. It’s like I don’t even recognize him. He knows damn well Kash grew up with Emma and the guys.
Mom’s gasp cuts through the silence, her hand covering her mouth. My eyes sting, making me mad. I refuse to cry right now. I’m so disappointed in him. When Kash doesn’t move, I grab his hand and tug on it, trying to pull him up. I’ll be damned if I’m sitting here and listening to him talk down to Kash. I get that he had a reputation before, but Dad barely knows him and isn’t even trying.
“It’s okay, Sunshine. He didn’t know.”
“It’s not okay, Kash. He knew enough.” Mom looks at him, then Dad. “I need a minute to talk to your father, Mila. Can you show Kash the backyard please?”
Dad hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes ping-pong between where Kash sits calmly next to me while I stand, and Mom’s angry expression. Sighing, he shakes his head. “I apologize, Kash.”
“I appreciate that, but when I tell you everyone knows about me and Mila, I mean it. Everyone important in my life knows about her. Emma loves her, and well, she already knows Atlas and the guys, so really, everyone knows about us.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
Kash tugs on my hand, silently asking me to sit back down. Folding my arms across my chest, I stare across the table at my parents. Mom looks like she wants to throttle him, and he’s avoiding my gaze.Good.
“I appreciate that. It was very unexpected, but I’m okay. Growing up with Emma wasn’t so bad. I was luckier than most in my situation.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal that his mom abandoned him when he needed her the most. Like growing up with strangers was a welcome change.
Nodding, my dad changes topics. “So, tattooing—what’s the deal with that?”
Kash lights up a bit at the change in topic, but inside, I’m still seething. My dad helped shape me into who I am. He always encouraged me to be kind to people because we never know what someone’s life is like, saying we should ease their pain, not add to it.
“I’ve always loved drawing, and when my brother got into it, it really stuck for all of us, but in different ways,” Kash explains as he finishes his food.
I lost my appetite after Dad’s outburst, and after a few minutes of pushing my food around, I give up. Resting my head on his shoulder, I lean into Kash. It feels like it should be concerning how quickly I’ve fallen for him, but instead it feels right. There’s a part of me that kicks myself for giving him such a hard time initially, but I needed him to be sure.
My greatest fear of Kash leaving when he got what he wanted seems to have been for nothing. If anything, it’s made him more clingy. The more time we spend together, the more he needs. As if he can hear my thoughts, Kash’s hand slides onto my thigh, searching for my fingers. Interlocking them together, I squeeze his hand.
Dad and Kash carry on a conversation for the rest of the meal, and I think he’s gotten over whatever his issue was. After a bit, Mom starts to clear dishes, and I stand to help her.
Kash places a kiss on my fingertips as he lets go of my hand. “I’ll getthese.”
He stands, offering to clean up, but Mom stops him.
“It’s fine, Kash. You’re our guest; you stay where you are.”
“Actually,” Dad starts, “why don’t you come out to the garage? I want to show you something.”
“It’s not a gun, is it?” Kash asks with a quirk of his brow.
Laughing loudly, Dad shakes his head. “No. Not a gun. Why? Do I need one? Would it scare you away?”
Kash chuckles in response and shakes his head. “Not even a bit.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Kash
