Page 53 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

“ S top stressing.”

“I’m not stressing,” Collins insists, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

I glance pointedly at her raised hand, and she flushes before dropping it back to her lap.

“I get flyaways when I’m telling the truth too,” she informs me. “But, fine, I’m a little nervous about tonight.”

“You’ve met them before, Monty. And Lili will be there.”

Collins exhales. “She said you and your dad were yelling at each other. About … the NDA.”

Nice of my sister to mind her own damn business.

I park on my parents’ street and shut the car off. “I was pissed he’d asked you to sign one. But we talked it out. Everything’s good.”

I was very clear with my parents that dinner tonight would only take place if it was completely informal.

I didn’t want them grilling Monty about the pregnancy or any discussion of Kensington Consolidated.

This is simply for them to get to know her better, but I’m not sure exactly what that will look like, even setting aside the extraordinary circumstances.

I’ve never introduced a girl to my parents before.

“Let’s go,” Collins declares, opening the car door and climbing out. “We’ll be late.”

I smirk as I step out too.

We’re five minutes early. My family will be floored.

Sure enough, there’s a look of obvious surprise on my mom’s face when she opens the door. “Kit! You’re early!”

I nod toward Collins as I tug her inside by our joined hands. “She runs a tight ship.”

I’ve never showed up late to anything that involved Collins, but it has nothing to do with her being bossy. I’m just eager to be around her. That’s a higher priority than anything else that might be happening.

“Mom, you remember Collins,” I say, helping her out of her coat.

“I—yes. Of course.” My mom’s flustered, her gaze focused on Collins’s round stomach.

She peppered me with questions about the pregnancy—after chastising me for the secrecy—but she’s uncharacteristically silent now. I’d imagine she’s experiencing the same surreal sensation I did at the first ultrasound. A moment where knowledge becomes reality .

“You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Kensington,” Collins says politely.

“Thank you. And please, call me Scarlett. Would it be okay—can I give you a hug?”

Collins smiles. “As long as you don’t mind the bump.”

“I don’t mind at all,” my mom replies, giving Collins a quick embrace.

I hang up the coats and then flash Collins a thumbs-up.

She rolls her eyes at me, then refocuses on my mom. “If you want to touch too …” Collins shyly gestures toward her stomach.

Mom nods eagerly, then presses her palm against the bump under Collins’s sweater. “Wow. Are you—have you been feeling okay?”

“I’m tired a lot,” Collins replies. “But no more nausea, thankfully.”

“Well, come sit down. Kit, show her into the living room.”

I feign shock. “You remembered I’m here too?”

Mom sighs before hugging me too. “You’ve always had an unforgettable presence, Christopher.”

Collins snickers, then pretends to cough to cover it.

Convincing , I mouth at her, grabbing Collins’s hand again and towing her toward the living room.

Dad, Lili, Charlie, and Bash stand in unison when we enter the room.

“Finally, the respectful welcome I deserve,” I state.

Lili literally shoves me out of the way to reach Collins. “You’re an idiot, Kit.”

“Something we can all agree on,” Bash declares.

“No one looks back on their life and wishes they’d studied more, bro,” I retort, flicking the back of his head as I walk toward the couch.

“People who flunk out of school do. ”

“Scotch, Kit?” Dad asks.

I take a seat on the couch. “I’m good, thanks,” I answer, glancing at Collins.

She’s whispering with Lili.

Bash raises an eyebrow. “You sick or something?”

“I’m driving,” I retort. “And”—I glance at Collins—“being supportive.”

Bash rolls his eyes, but Dad looks proud. He’s made a real effort this past week to make up for his initial reaction.

I apologized too. Because if I’d heard about the facts of the situation, with no personal investment, I’d probably have done more than suggest an NDA. And because I should have told my dad sooner so he didn’t have to find out from a box.

Which reminds me, I really need to assemble the crib. I fell asleep reading the instructions last night.

Collins takes a seat next to me as I’m fixing a plate of the hors d’oeuvres set out on the coffee table.

I add a couple more cubes of cheese and hold it out to her. “Hungry?”

“Thanks,” she says, taking it.

I give her knee a quick squeeze before picking up a second plate for myself.

Drinks get served—Collins and I both opt for water—and then a brief pause falls.

Maybe I was too firm about the off-limits topics. I didn’t want my family to stress or overwhelm Collins, so I was overinclusive on the list.

“How’s the law firm going?” Lili asks between sips of wine, breaking the silence.

I decide I won’t berate my sister later for telling Collins about my fight with Dad over the NDA.

“It’s good,” Collins replies. “My first deposition is in a couple of weeks. And I have my own office.”

“It’s a nice office,” Dad comments.

Collins smiles at him.

“Well, anything has to be better than being camped outside of Kit’s,” Lili says.

Bash laughs.

“How are your parents doing, Collins?” Mom asks.

“They’re good, thanks. Both still teaching. My sister’s about to graduate in the spring.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“What does your father teach?” Dad questions.

“Chemistry,” Collins answers. “He had Kit in a couple of classes actually. First thing my dad said when he heard I was working for him was, ‘Smart kid.’”

I glance at her, taken aback by the revelation. She never mentioned that to me.

My family saw my degree in chemistry as a lark. A classic Kit choice to pick a random avenue. But there’s some unshakable pride in knowing that I pursued something entirely outside of my comfort zone. That I could have succeeded on a different path if I’d chosen it.

“Crew mentioned you’ve purchased a crib,” Mom states.

Both of my siblings smile, suggesting Bash told Lili how Dad found out about the baby.

“And Kit indicated you’ve already gotten all the other necessities,” she continues.

“Sounds like you’re very prepared. But I”—she glances at Dad—“ we would love to host a gathering this spring. Or over the summer. Not a baby shower necessarily, but some type of celebration for the newest member of our family.”

I glance at Collins. Her lips are pressed together, and she’s blinking rapidly.

I hear a quiet sniff before she says, “That sounds really nice, Scarlett. Thank you.”

“Summer would probably be best,” I say. “Amanda and Gerald will have more open schedules. And that way, the guest of honor”—I pat Collins’s bump—“can be there.”

Mom beams. “Perfect. I’ll start planning.”

“So, where did you two meet?” Dad asks.

“You know where we met, Dad,” I reply. “Lili’s move-in. You were there.”

“I think he meant, where was your child conceived?” Bash comments, then takes a sip of scotch.

“Sebastian!” Mom exclaims. “I’m sure that wasn’t what your father meant.”

“It wasn’t,” Dad confirms, but his eyes are twinkling as he sips some scotch.

“How about we show Collins the clothes before dinner, Mom?” Lili suggests.

Mom brightens even more. “Great idea.”

“What clothes?” Collins asks.

“Well”—Lili claps her hands together—“I had a feeling you didn’t have much in the way of maternity clothes, based on what you were wearing last week, so Mom sourced some options. They’re upstairs in one of the guest rooms. And then we also might have bought a few things for the baby.”

“There are, like, fifty bags up there,” Bash contributes.

Collins’s eyes are wide. “Lili! ”

“Bash is exaggerating,” she replies. “A little. Just come look. Anything you don’t like, we’ll return.”

Collins glances at me, and I give her an encouraging smile.

“Okay.” She stands, disappearing upstairs with my mom and sister.

“You ever played pool, Charlie?” Bash asks. “There’s a table in the library.”

“Sounds great,” Charlie replies, standing.

He and Bash head down the hallway in the direction of the library a few seconds later, conspicuously not bothering to invite me or Dad to join them.

A minute later, we’re alone.

I glance at my father. “We sure can clear a room, huh?”

We’ve both apologized. But there’s a tentativeness between us that’s never existed before. A cut that’s scabbed over, but hasn’t fully healed yet.

Dad exhales. “Do you want me to leave the company, Kit?”

I stare at him, stunned. “What? No. You just came back.”

“And I never asked you before I did. Your mother wanted to make a change professionally, so I decided to do the same. Decided without asking you and maybe without thinking it through.”

“Is this about Collins?”

“It’s about you. I realized … you’ve grown up, Christopher. You’ve become the man I always hoped you would. You were right; I’ll never be CEO of Kensington Consolidated. There’s a lot of history there, and I thought enough time had passed that it wouldn’t matter. Maybe I was wrong.”

I exhale. “If you want to leave Kensington Consolidated because you want to leave, leave. Don’t leave because you think it’s what I want.

” I clear my throat. “I wasn’t sure what working at the company together would be like.

Now that I do … I’d miss it. So, if you’re asking me what I think you should do?

I think you should stay. And I know we’ve never really discussed that part of the past, but I don’t think you’re the only one who wants to rewrite the past. Grandpa came to visit me last month. At the office.”

“He did?” Dad looks stunned.

I nod. “I wasn’t sure if I should mention it to you.

I know you and Grandpa … it’s complicated.

But he showed up, and we talked for at least twenty minutes.

I swear he looked sentimental, seeing me in your old office.

And you and me—it’s not complicated. If you’re worried that’s changed because of the company or because of what happened with Collins, don’t. ”

Dad studies me for a few seconds before he says, “I’m really proud of you, son.”

I smile wryly. “Despite the whole baby thing?”

He and Mom might have moved past the shock-and-anger stage to start planning parties, but this wasn’t how they would have chosen for me to become a parent.

“ Including the whole baby thing,” he tells me.

“I wish you’d felt like you could tell me sooner.

If nothing else, so I could have supported you.

But as far as I can tell, you’ve handled everything remarkably well on your own.

Hell of a lot better than I did. You’re going to be an incredible father, Christopher. ”

“Thanks, Dad,” I croak, then clear my throat.

He does the same a second later.

We’re both silent. But it’s not the humming quiet from earlier as we both deliberated what to say. It’s the comfortable, relaxed kind we’ve shared many times before.

“Is Collins interested in fashion?” my dad asks a few minutes later .

I frown as I reach for a cracker, confused by the question. “Uh, no. Not especially.”

Dad smiles. “Then you might want to head upstairs and rescue her because Bash wasn’t exaggerating about the number of bags Lili and your mother had stashed up there.”