LUCAS
Hold it together.
Hold it together.
Hold.
It.
Together.
I repeated those words until I threw open the front doors and finally took my first breath of air that wasn’t laced with the arsenic that spewed from my mother’s lips.
Why the fuck did I ever think that woman could be reasoned with?
Why had I ever let her draw me back in here in the first place?
Because she’d given me her word she would behave, that’s why.
Because she was Adam’s mother.
I tried to scrub the past half hour from my memory as I inhaled deeply. But it was impossible, especially with Aster standing so near, and staring at me like a baby deer whose mother had just been shot by hunters.
Goddammit.
This wasn’t just about me, Aster had put in a shit ton of work too. Blood, sweat . . . and now tears. And fuck, I hated the tears.
Goddammit, Mother.
Grudgingly, and even more grudgingly because Emerson was there to witness it, I put my arm around Aster. Hugging her had never been easy. Even now, knowing this was what she wanted, needing me to console her, she was stiff and awkward. Like hugging a pole.
Em had never been that. Stiff or awkward. Em was soft and pliable, warm and wet . . .
Fuck! The last thing I needed was to get a hard-on, pressed up against Aster.
Think about surfing.
Think about the gala.
Think about your goddamned mother!
Christ. That did it. My dick went completely limp. I might never get hard again.
“I think I’ll just grab an Uber,” Em said from where she stood on the driveway, and I wondered if she had any real intention of calling for a car or if it was just a bluff to break up my hugfest with Aster.
Either way, I released Aster. Too much contact would give her the wrong impression anyway, soft dick or not.
I turned to Emerson. “Don’t do that.” Then I looked down at Aster. “We can touch base about this later.” I didn’t give her room to argue.
The nod she gave me was pitiful. “Sure,” she yielded on a sniffle, but I could see the accusation in her eyes. She wasn’t saying what she was thinking—I shouldn’t have brought Emerson. I should’ve left well enough alone. “I’ll call you tonight.”
“Tomorrow would be better,” I told her, and I could tell from the crestfallen look that it wouldn’t be better for her.
She’d been hoping to distract me tonight so I couldn’t do, or even think about doing, anything with Emerson.
“Fine, then. Tomorrow,” she relented.
Emerson ignored Aster as she climbed in the car, and I wondered if these two would ever put their claws away and play nice.
Not likely.
Aster hadn’t given Em much of a chance. She’d made her mind up about Emerson right off the bat, and I’d never really known Aster to change her mind about . . . well, anything.
I got behind the wheel and started the engine before glancing over to Emerson. Unlike Aster, who was wearing her emotions like a billboard right now, I had no idea what was going on in Em’s head. She looked anything but confident, her face a mash-up of feelings. Uncertain, hurt, frustrated, and defenseless all at once. And suddenly, I wanted to wrap my arms around her . . . not a good place for my mind to be right now.
Think about surfing . . .
“Why didn’t you warn me?” she fumed at last.
I frowned, feeling like I’d missed something.
“About this,” she clarified. “This whole evening, it was . . . humiliating. If I’d have known . . . that we were . . . that this was . . .” She was gesturing so wildly I couldn’t even tell what she was indicating.
Except, I did know.
I didn’t mean to laugh, but shit, she was hot as fuck when she was pissed. And she was definitely pissed. “I did. I told you we were coming to a planning committee meeting.”
She huffed, crossing her arms and covering the swell of her breasts. I wanted to convince her to uncross them again. “But you didn’t say it was with your mother. Or with . . . her.” She couldn’t even bring herself to pretend she still didn’t know Aster’s name. “And you didn’t tell me your mother would . . .” She scowled. “She hates me, Lucas.”
I blew out a breath. “She hates everyone. Don’t take it personally.” It was true. I’d grown up feeling exactly the way Em did now, like nothing I ever did was good enough. That I wasn’t good enough. “Let me make it up to you,” I said, putting the car in reverse. “I’m starved.”