Page 44 of Dare You to Run

I gulp and choke on my own breath. “Mom. There’s nothing to worry about. He–”

“I am not stupid nor that old to recognize when things are more than the story being told. Just be careful and make good decisions. Okay?”

My chest feels tight thinking about how careless I was in the shower this morning, but nod anyway.

“Okay, Mom.” My cheeks flush bright red with embarrassment knowing that she’s keen to everything going on. “So you think he’s cute?”

“Daughter…he’s not cute. That word is reserved for awkward high school boys. That man is hot.”

I snort and start laughing then pale when dad comes strolling in right behind her.

“Who’s hot? Tell me his name so I can go kick his ass.” Dad wraps his hands around Mom’s waist and pulls her close, kissing her cheek and smiling.

“Boston Christiansen. That new defensive lineman for the Houston Drillers football team.” Mom says, quickly recovering.

Dad rests his chin on her shoulders, stars in his eyes for only her. “Well I don’t think I can beat him up. The guy is a fucking train.”

Mom reaches up and pats his face. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m not old enough to be a cougar, so you’re good.”

I think about all of the love they have for one another, and a tinge of anger rises thinking about Stephanie ruining so many years for them. Maybe Cami would have been myrealmom if Stephanie never got her claws into dad. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t be here at all.

“Okay. Before you two start kissing and groping in front of your daughter, I’m going to go. I haven’t eaten dinner yet and I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, baby bird,” Dad tells me and Mom rolls her eyes.

“We’ll text you tomorrow, andyoucall if you need anything,” she adds.

We said a thousandI love you’sbefore hanging up and I gave myself a moment to collect my whits. I’m warring with being the good girl my parents expect me to be, and the woman that a man like Hendrix needs me to be. I don’t know if it’s possible to be both, so it’s a good thing this…whatever it is with him will be short lived.

I stick my phone in my jeans and walk down the connecting hallway to the main part of the house and down the stairs where Hendrix sits at his kitchen counter, spinning what looks to be a quarter around and around.

“Hey,” I greet as I descend.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you like that. I should have knocked.” He spins on the stool, putting his back to the counter and facing me.

“You don’t have to apologize. This is your house. Besides, it was just my Mom.”

As I step closer to him, Hendrix reaches out and takes me by my wrist and tugs me to stand between his legs. His arms immediately wrap around me, his large hands resting on my butt.

“Was she instantly worried for your safety? Are they sending the scary uncles your dad threatened me with to take you away?”

“My Dad did what?” I lay my arms on his shoulders and scrape my nails through his hair.

With a smile and nod he says, “He told me if I was unable to keep my hands to myself, he had friends that would be happy to teach me a lesson.”

My jaw drops, utterly surprised that my Dad would say such a thing. “I can’t believe he actually said that.”

“He’s smart to warn me. Otherwise, I was planning to lock you in my basement and make you my sex slave.”

“You can’t enslave the willing.” I’ve come to learn very quickly that he likes my sassy comebacks and word sparring.

His fingers dig into my ass when he squeezes it hard. “I’ll remember that.” He lifts one brow, waggling it, then kisses me with fervor.

He tastes of cool mint and it tingles my tongue. Just like his touch does to my entire body. The way he touched me last night and this morning –rough with a touch of tenderness– flipped a switch in me and I just want to contain that feeling in a jar and visit it every chance I get.

We separate and I keep my eyes closed for a moment longer, adding this feeling to my jar.

“Are you hungry?” he asks and I nod, eyes still shut tight. “Do you want to take the Duc?”