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“You don’t have to thank me. Someday you’ll realize Iwantto take care of you.”

A faint pink slides across her cheekbones and she ducks her head, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. I hold out my hand, and when she takes it, I entwine our fingers together, leading her toward the door. We’ve taken three steps on our way out when a firm set of knocks hits the door.

Cara jumps at the sound, looking to the door and to me.

“Who could that be?” I ask.

“No clue. No one shows up unannounced and Dan and Jenna are at his family’s house this weekend. Weird,” she says, dropping her hand from mine and moving toward the door.

She peeks through the peephole and flips her head back to me. “It’s my parents.” Her eyes are wide, face pale, but another set of knocks hits the door.

Fabulous. Just what I want right now.

I cross my arms over my chest, planting my feet. If she thinks there’s any chance in hell I’m going to put up with their bullshit, she’s dead wrong. “Open it.”

“I don’t want to,” she hisses at me.

I roll my eyes and move past her, opening the door and tugging her back with me.

“Mom, Dad, hi,” Cara says, moving away from me. “What are you doing here?”

Her mom waltzes in, dressed in a floor-length shimmering black gown, some sort of puff of fur wrapped around her shoulders. Her dad follows, suavely dressed in a tuxedo, salt and pepper sprinkled along the temples of his jet-black hair. He looks like every asshole lawyer I’ve encountered.

There’s no denying they’re Cara’s parents. She has her father’s facial features, bright blue eyes and the same nose, but she looks almost like a spitting image of her mother, tall and lean, graceful on her feet, and dark brown hair I assume the woman spends a fortune on to maintain the look of her twenty-four-year-old daughter.

“Cara,” her dad says and glances at me. His gaze drops to my arms, I’m assuming to the ink covering them, and he visibly flinches. “You have company.”

She jolts on her feet, gaze bouncing between me and her parents like she can’t decide where to stand. I make the choice for her and move closer to her, resting my hand on her hip.

“Mom, Dad, this is Braxton. Braxton, this is my mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.”

The fact she doesn’t give me their first names doesn’t go unnoticed, but I’m not even given time to say hello.

Her mom’s gaze does a sweep of my body, making an even more putrid look as she takes me in and looks at her daughter. “How are you? We heard you were in the hospital last week. Are you okay?”

I’ve been dismissed. I couldn’t give a shit. It’s the tone in the woman’s voice that makes me clench my jaw tightly.

In my hold, Cara slumps. “Yeah,” she says, brushing a hand across her forehead. “I’m okay. How did you know?”

“Dr. Sherman informed us.”

I have no idea who this guy is, but Cara does, because those slumped shoulders straighten right up. “Hecalledyou?”

“Of course he did,” her dad says. “You can’t expect us not to worry about you when we hear you were at the hospital and you didn’t bother informing us yourself.”

“Holy HIPAA violation, Dad. I can’t believe he’d do that.”

“Please,” her dad says. His tone suggests he’s fighting an eye roll at his daughter, but is too stuck up to do so. “You’ve known him your entire life, and it’s not as if he told us why you were there.”

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Thompson asks.

Something softens in her mom’s eyes as she asks the question though, and for a moment, I think the woman actually cares. Perhaps I’ve judged them all wrong.

Cara looks at me, nibbling on her bottom lip. I know without asking what she wants.

“Tell them,” I say quietly, giving her a nod.

She gathers whatever courage she needs and swivels back to her parents. Clasping her hands together, her voice shakes as she says, “I’m fine. I promise. But actually, maybe we could go out to dinner? The four of us? I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”