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We’re getting out of the car in the garage when the second garage door opens and Sam pulls in. Jason immediately starts jumping up and down next to the driver’s door, and I see the enamored grin on Sam’s face. I think she’s almost as far gone for Danae and Jason as I am, in her own sister and auntie way.

“My guy, you ready for some dinner and Mario Kart?” Sam asks as she hugs Jason. “I picked up the best Chinese food in town. Can you help me carry it?”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” Jason yells, throwing in a serious salute. Sam hands him the lighter bag of food, then pauses to hug Danae before grabbing the other bag.

I heat up the meal that my chef left in the fridge because the start of the season means sticking to my assigned food regimen as much as possible. I enjoy watching Jason’s attempts to use chopsticks, though, before he gives up and reaches for a fork.

Danae and I start clearing the table after dinner, and Sam convinces Jason to go with her to get warmed up on Mario Kart. “I promise I’ll come join you here in a little bit,” I say. “After I get everything cleaned up and talk with your mom.”

“And after you smoochy-kiss,” Jason adds, making ridiculously cheesy kissing faces.

Rising to the teasing challenge of this ten-year-old kid, I take Danae’s hand, twirl her around, and pull her to me for a quick “smoochy-kiss.”

“Ahhh, my eyes are melting,” Jason says, palms covering his eyes. His toothy smile gives away his true feelings, though.

“You better get some practice rounds in before I totally school you at Mario Kart,” I say, shooing him toward the basement door. As soon as the door closes, I pull Danae back into a true smoochy-kiss. “You can leave the dishes. I’ll clean up later.”

It’s one of those spring days when the sun is warming the earth to a just-right temperature, so I lead Danae to the back porch. The saucer magnolia trees in my backyard are in full pink bloom, turning the covered porch into an oasis with a view. I have several seating options available, but I guide her to the large, cushioned porch swing. She pulls her feet up, and I wrap an arm around her knees, locking her in close to me.

“So, tell me how the past few days have been. And be honest,” I say. She seemed okay by the end of our video call that first day the news story broke. Still, I’ve worried that the cons column of the “Being with Griffin” list may have multiplied in my absence. From what I could tell,news stations seemed to mostly kill the story, and she hasn’t told me about any other media ambushes at home or at school. But there was always the niggling doubt that she could be secretly reevaluating our relationship without telling me.

Danae pauses a moment to take in the view, as though gathering her thoughts from the corners of the yard. “Weird,” she finally answers.

“Weird doesn’t sound great. Weird makes me nervous,” I say.

She looks at me with a half-smile. “Oh, good. Finally, I’m not the only one who’s anxious all the time. I finally found something for you to be nervous about.”

“You underestimate the amount of anxiety I consistently have that at any given moment you’re going to see right through me and walk away,” I say. I’ve pushed levity into my tone to cover up the very raw truth at the surface of my statement.

Danae’s eyes soften, and she reaches up to trace my jaw with her fingers. “I see you, Griff.You. And I’m not tempted to walk away from you. It’s the rest of the circus that makes things confusing.” Her eyes drop, and my heart follows.

“I’m sorry about the circus. I’m sorry that who I am isn’t always the soft, quiet place you need,” I say, studying her fingernails. They’re growing back after clear evidence of an attack, freshly painted with glossy clear polish. I take a deep breath, willing myself to press forward. “What’s been the hardest part?”

“My parents keep calling me,” Danae says, and my eyes shoot up to hers in surprise. “I haven’t answered any of their calls. I’m pretty sure I know the gist of what they might have to say, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to withstand their manipulation.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taking her hand in mine to halt her thumb’s assault on that fresh coat of polish.

She sighs, long and slow. “I’m sure they saw the news about us dating. And I’m sure that they’re suddenly very interested in being back in my life now that I’m in a relationship with someone famous. Someone famous and wealthy.”

Sadness and rage wrestle in my chest as I watch tears prick her eyes as she continues. “I’d be worthwhile to them again now that I’m not throwing my life away as a teacher and single mom to a ‘brokenkid.’” The phrase is emphasized by her sarcasm and air quotes, and the rage wins out over the sadness that her parents actually spoke those words to her. About Jason.

“Why don’t you call them right now? While I’m here with you,” I say before even thinking it through. Her eyes are the ones to shoot to mine with surprise now. “I’m serious. You can’t avoid them forever, and that’s not a confrontation you should have alone.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. Her tone is hesitant, but her eyes shimmer with hope.

I lean in to gently kiss her lips, sealing my assurance. “I’ll go get your phone. You’re not doing this alone, Danae. We’re a team. I’m with you.”

Chapter thirty-five

Danae

Itemsnoton my bingo card for this year?

1. Calling my parents.

2. Calling my parents while in the presence of Griffin West.

I knew, in theory, our relationship would eventually progress to a point where I would have to communicatesomethingto my parents about us. But that anxiety can of worms was one I was nowhere near opening. Or touching. Or even acknowledging its existence.