“Let’s go.” I unbuckled but didn’t move as fast as I would’ve liked. My body ached as I got out of the Mustang. I stretched, eyes closed as my back popped.
Ren ruffled my curls, and I swatted at him.
“Hey! You can meet Mom!” I grinned at him and felt slightly evil. “We all know you were looking forward to that.”
Ren groaned and darted his big stupid hand out toward my head again, but this time I slapped his hand hard. He hissed and shook it, and I tried not to feel smug. I failed.
“You’ll love her. Wow.” I glanced at the house in shock. “I actually miss her. I don’t think we’ve ever been apart long enough for me to miss her.”
“I might love her—” Ren rolled his eyes. “—but will she like me? Quain hates me. I’m covered in tattoos.” He held out his arms and scrutinized them with his pierced nose wrinkled. I knew he was hamming it up, trying to shake me out of my funk, but that was too much.
I rolled my eyes right back at him and did it with so much enthusiasm my eyeballs hurt for a hot second. “Quain doesn’t hate you because of yourtattoos, you fucking goober. My dad is a biker. Mom can’t hate tats.”
“Oh, well, that’s that, then.” He returned fire with the setting cranked to Full Sarcasm.
I bit my lip to hold back a smile, then headed toward the front door. I’d never seen Ren nervous in a normal social situation, and he was even rock steady in a few that should’ve shaken him, but as he walked, he glanced down and plucked at his muscle shirt with a frown. Did he care what Mom thought of him for real? Ren got to the door first, and I snorted out a laugh as he knocked.
I rested my hand on the door and glanced up at him.
He frowned down. “What?”
“Are you nervous?”
“Fuck that. No.” He tugged on one of my curls, and I smacked his side with the back of my hand. I held eye contact with him, then turned the knob and pushed open the door. “I live here, not at your apartment, no matter how much I’m there. Remember?” I gestured him inside with a wave of my hand.
“Oh!” Ren blinked around, then stared at me. “Right.” He rubbed his face and knocked his glasses askew on his nose. “Fuck.” He ripped off the glasses and put them in a case he carried around.
My stomach lurched. He wore his glasses when he was tattooing. “Did I pull you away from a client? I did. Why didn’t you tell me no when I texted and asked for a ride?”
“It’s okay. Wylie took over.” He shrugged a shoulder.
“No, that’s?—”
He wrapped a solid arm around me and hauled me against his side. God, I loved that strength. “I want to be here if you need me.”
I gave his wrist a squeeze.
The sound of a very male voice that wasn’t either of us made my breath catch. It was coming from inside the house, but it was muffled, as if it had traveled from back the hallway. My stomach cratered. The only rooms in that direction were the bathroom and bedrooms. And people didn’t usually talk to themselves. The bizarre intimacy—a man must be talking tomy mom—made my skin crawl.
“It’s weird that Mom didn’t hear you knock.” I fumbled my hand up to where I had Dad’s Kings of Men ring on a necklace and clutched it. Did Mom have a boyfriend? Was that the news? I headed inside and was vaguely aware of Ren following me and shutting the front door. The hallway wasn’t long. In seconds, I was in the doorway to my bedroom.
A strange man was sitting on my bed with scuffed black riding boots stretched out in front of himself. His jeans were frayed at the bottom and there was a hole in the left knee. His black T-shirt was full of pinprick holes and his black leather cut made my stomach swoop. His cold blue eyes were sharp as they swept over me.
I touched my head. His brown curls were frizzy and everywhere, the way mine were if I didn’t use leave-in conditioner. He was also bonkers tall.
“Mom?”
“Oh, you’re home!” She jumped up from my desk chair and grabbed the man’s shoulder. He recoiled, but she didn’t notice or maybe ignored it. “Look who it is, Oli!” Her smile faltered. “Do you know who this is, honey?”
The man stood but didn’t attempt to smile. He was attractive with a pronounced long jaw, but his cheeks were gaunt, like he hadn’t eaten enough in a long time. Shock slammed into me.
“Dad?”
He dipped his chin and his lips thinned. “Hey, boy.”
My mouth fell open.
“Nothing to say?” Dad chuckled, a raspy low sound, but there was something about it that felt forced.
