As I drove, Miles dozed in the seat next to me, still recovering, I supposed. What kind of crappy situation had life put him in that I was the only one he could turn to, the person who clearly stressed him out so much he needed to be liquored up to be able to handle the situation? I wondered if he’d been drinking before each of our diner dates, but no, he’d been driving. It must have been because I’d asked him over to my condo. Shit, I hadn’t even been thinking… but other people would. Why else would an unattached alpha ask an omega over to his house alone? I was a blind idiot. I should have just agreed to Café Om. He clearly felt comfortable there. I should have put aside my own issues. Or taken the time to find somewhere else we could meet. Another Om, even. There were enough of them in the city. I didn’t need to avoid them all just because my brother worked at one.

Thankfully, Miles had entered his parents’ address into the GPS before falling back asleep. When we were just a few minutes away, I woke him gently, and he blinked awake like an owl, his eyes large, and unfocused. I tore my gaze from the entrancing sight and focused on the road. The last thing we needed was to get in an accident. Yeah, Parker, that would be real helpful.

“Just pull up to the curb here in case you need to make a quick escape,” Miles said. I laughed, but he didn’t join me. I shifted into park and then jumped out to run around and open Miles, door, but he was up and closing the door behind him before I was halfway.

“I would have gotten that for you.”

He gave me a half-smile. “Sorry, habit.”

I hesitated before offering him my arm again, but figured we were in full-couple mode now. Even if Miles didn’t want to be close to me, didn’t want to touch me, I would offer. Whatever I would have done if this were real, if we were two people in love, considering spending the rest of our lives together, that’s what I would do.

It was painfully easy to imagine that path before us; it was much more difficult to keep reality in mind.

I hesitated at the front door. “What did you tell your parents about us being late?”

Miles shrugged. “I just said that we would be, I didn’t explain it.”

“Let me take the blame, then,” I said. Marcus started to protest. “Please?” I couldn’t read his expression as he nodded, turning to open the door and taking the lead, his hand dropping from my elbow to wrap his fingers around mine, pulling me behind him. My eyes couldn’t look away from our intertwined fingers. I couldn’t stop memorizing the exact spread of his wide fingers between mine.

“Dad? Mom? Sorry we’re late; Parker had a last-minute work emergency.”

I dragged my eyes up to the hard, judging gazes of his parents and I felt exactly like the person I was pretending to be: the suitor of their only child, hoping to be found worthy in the eyes of the people who meant most to him. For the first time in years, I felt my confidence waiver. I took a slow breath before stepping forward to greet them, my left hand clenching tightly around Miles’s.

I offered my hand to the man who was clearly the alpha. He was a stocky man, his hair a steely grey except at his temples, where it faded into white. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Parker Spears.” His dad looked at my hand and took a long, slow sip of his wine before setting it deliberately down on the side table, standing slowly, and taking my hand in a crushing grip. This was a situation I was more than familiar with, and I met his grip and his eyes with equal strength. We were about the same height, so neither of us was able to press that advantage, and after a too-long moment, our test of wills ended and he relaxed his hand. I had been squeezing as hard as I could, and I’d only just matched his strength. His eyes didn’t change though, and I was sure whether or not I had passed the silent test.

“We’re happy you’ve finally found time to introduce yourself,” he said, reaching for his glass of wine. I darted a glance at Miles, but he had retreated behind an impassive mask and I found no support there. But I wasn’t the one who needed the support, I reminded myself. I was Miles’s support here. I pressed my mouth into my most winning smile and turned to Miles’s mother, turning my charm up to max. “And I can see where Miles gets his good looks.”

Miles certainly did take after his mother, slender, with an olive complexion and wide eyes. Where Miles’s dad hair was natural gray, though, his mother’s was dyed black, and her gaze was as flinty as her husband’s. “Those looks won’t last long if he doesn’t start attempting to take care of himself.” I caught the flash of disgust on her face as her eyes raked up and down Miles’s body.

An ember of anger burned within my chest. Miles had always defended his parents, always tried to match up to their expectations, and for his sake, I’d always tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but that look, let alone the words, broke that. If Miles had actually been mine, we would have been leaving right that moment. But he wasn’t, and I was here to make things better, not worse. My smile thinned, and I responded, “But with a natural beauty such as Miles, I find little care is needed. Anything additional is simply… artificial.”

His mother’s eyes narrowed as she processed my words and she snatched her hand away. “Dinner has been ready for nearly an hour. It’s probably gone cold, but it won’t do to waste it.”

She spun on her heel and her husband and son stepped in line to follow, but I pulled Miles back to whisper, “What am I supposed to call your parents? They didn’t bother to let me know.”

Miles’s blank façade dropped for a moment, and I could see a weariness that must have been years in the making. “Your best bet is to address my dad as Mr. Schofield and my mom as Mrs. Schofield-Witt.”

As we made our way to dinner, I realized I had completely forgotten the Bordeaux, and I was glad. Nothing I did would have improved this introduction, and it would have been a sin to waste good wine.