Page 5 of Infatuated as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #2)

Holly

My mom was a sentimental person through and through, right to the heart and soul.

It had always been like that with her. She liked to hold things near and dear to her and I was almost certain that she passed that mentality down to me.

First days and last days were especially hard on her, and it seemed like she lost a piece of her whenever those came up.

It was why she was looking at me with big eyes as we sat at the breakfast table.

Chin in hand, she shook her head slightly.

“Can you believe it?” She sighed, brown eyes batting my way. “Our third last ever breakfast together. And it’s almost over. Eat more pancakes.”

Reaching forward, she shoved a fork into one of the many pancakes sitting in front of us, hovering it over my plate.

Mom had gone all out. Pancakes, syrup, cream, croissants, a large assortment of fresh fruit that would take us all morning to finish, and the threat of French toast if I was still feeling hungry.

“I’ve had enough.” I pulled my plate away from her, far too full for more food. “I’m still eating my third one. Thank you, though. And this isn’t our third last ever breakfast together. There will be more breakfasts in the future.”

“But this is your third last one before you go off to college. Before you go off to live in a totally different city. This time next week…” She lifted up her hands. “I can’t talk about it. I can’t.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” I said. “Right in front of my pancakes. ”

“Right.” Nodding, she pressed a hand to her chest. “What are your plans for today? Are you going out?”

I nodded, cutting into my half-eaten pancake. “Sawyer’s taking me out today. I’m not sure where, it’s a surprise. I’ve been trying to get it out of him for weeks. And then we’re going to hang out at his place for a little while before he takes me out for dinner.”

“Ooh, sounds like a fun day,” Mom said.

“Aren’t you tired of that place?” my father grumbled, suddenly joining in on the conversation. Cold gaze stuck on the newspaper grasped in his hands, he avoided my eyes as he spoke. “All summer long you’ve been going down to that crummy little trailer park.”

“It’s not crummy .” I raised an eyebrow up at him. “That’s his home. There’s nothing wrong with where he lives.”

“You know I don’t like it when you go down there. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s a trailer park. Not a prison.”

“It may as well be one.”

“You’re doing that thing again,” I said pointedly.

“What thing?”

“That thing where you act like an annoying, raging classist who judges people for how much money they have like that’s all that matters,” I said. “What else am I supposed to do, anyway? You can’t stand it when Sawyer comes over.”

“Well, there’s a reason for that.” He shifted in his chair. “I mean, can’t you go one day without him?”

“Not really, to be honest. And he really wanted to take me somewhere for my birthday. This is his first whole day off in a while. You know he’s been busy painting. He’s had a lot of art projects over the summer.”

“Ah, yes. What a lucrative career that’ll be. I’m sure he’s working very hard.”

“ He is ,” I said. While me and Sawyer had spent almost every day together, a lot of those days had been cut short because he had been busy with his projects.

He was working hard and my dad wouldn’t even acknowledge that fact.

“Because he has no one to look after him but himself like I’ve told you a million times before.

So, maybe you should cut him some slack. ”

“You two,” Mom said with a slight hiss. “Stop. No fighting. Let Holly go spend the day with her boyfriend. I’m sure he’s taking her somewhere lovely.

” She looked over at me. “But don’t forget: it’ll be our time tomorrow.

Those will be our last few days together and I plan on spending every second with you. ”

“He’s not invited to that,” my father bit out, blue eyes darting between me and Mom.

“Oh, he’s not?” I asked.

“You’ve seen him all summer, Holly.” He flicked the newspaper shut. “You saw him yesterday. You’re seeing him today. He is not invited to our… last few days together.”

I adjusted the white linen napkin on my lap, the color contrasting against the purple dress I had on. “You’re still not a fan of him, huh?”

“No,” he said, the word coming out all fast and dismissive.

“I thought you’d be okay with me and Sawyer being together by now.”

Huffing, he tossed the folded up newspaper to the oak dining table. “I’ll never be okay with you two being together. I just didn’t want you sneaking around. That’s the only reason why you have my permission to date him, so that me and your mother at least know what’s going on with you and… him .”

“I’m nineteen,” I said, a cautious but present edge to my voice. “I don’t need your permission to have a boyfriend anymore.”

“You know, you’ve gone your whole life meeting nice boys,” he said. “Boys with good futures. Boys who come from good families.”

My eyes rolled. “You mean boys with money.”

“You said it, not me.”

“I’m not interested in boys like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because rich boys are boring, Daddy.”

“No, they’re not. They’re… stable.” He waved a hand in the air. “And trustworthy. Reliable. Your mother married a rich boy in case you’re forgetting. She doesn’t think they’re boring.”

“They’re a little boring,” Mom said .

My father’s eyes flickered over to her for a long moment before they landed back on me.

“My point is that there’s better options.

Safer options. You know who’s a nice, reliable boy?

” he asked, suddenly perking up in his seat.

“Carl Whittaker’s son, Nathaniel. I’ve been playing golf with him at the club and he’s been very helpful.

I was assigned a new caddy—some young kid, absolute rookie—and he was struggling horribly with calculating yardages, but Nate gave that boy a complete tee to green run down and taught him how it’s done. It was very impressive.”

I winced at Mom. “Are you hearing this?”

“Yes.” She took a sip of her orange juice. “Joe, you’re not exactly helping your case.”

“You know he got into Columbia too?” he continued. “And that he wants to study economics? He also plays lacrosse. He seems more your type.”

“I know Nate,” I said. “I’m not interested. Also: I have a boyfriend .”

“I’m just saying you don’t have to settle with Sawyer.”

“I’m not settling.”

“Joe, can you stop?” Mom leaned in close to him. “I’m tired of you criticizing that poor boy every five seconds.”

“Poor is the operative word, isn’t it?” he asked with a smile.

“That’s not…” She turned to look at me, squeezing at my hand. “That’s not what I meant, Holly.”

Mom had always been nice to Sawyer. So warm and welcoming, never casting a judgmental eye his way. That had never shocked me, because she had never been the kind of person to judge anyone for anything. But my father? It seemed like he’d never be convinced that Sawyer was good enough for me.

“You know, you could have gotten to know him,” I offered quietly. “You didn’t even try. You two could have hung out.”

He scoffed. “And done what? I think it’s best if we both avoid each other as much as possible. I’ll be a lot happier that way.”

“You don’t even talk to him when he picks me up for dates. You don’t say hello to him and you barely acknowledge his existence. You don’t try. He tries, at least. Why can’t you make an effort? ”

“You call buying you those cheap flowers he always gets trying?” he asked, voice all sour. “Where does he get them, from the grocery store? How much do you think they cost?”

“I like them,” I mumbled. I liked them so much that every time Sawyer got me new flowers, I’d pop them into the vase right by my bed so I got to look at them before I fell asleep.

“It was bad enough having him at your birthday party. Do you think I enjoyed having to explain who he was to all your aunts and uncles and cousins?”

I pushed a fork into my food. “Everyone seemed to like him. Maybe you should try liking him.”

“Well, until then, I’m not really interested in hanging out with your boyfriend.”

“Are you going to be like this forever?” I frowned at him. “What, ten years from now you’re still going to hate him?”

“Will I have to deal with him ten years from now?”

“Well, I don’t plan on breaking up with him anytime soon, so yes.”

Mom sucked in a sharp breath. “Will you two stop it?”

“I have a feeling he won’t be hanging around that long,” he said.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Just a feeling I get.”

“And what if he’s still hanging around that long? I mean, what are you gonna do when me and Sawyer get married?” I asked, and the laugh he gave me was enough to hurt my heart a little. “What? Is that funny?”

“It is funny,” he said. That laughter wouldn’t fade. “Yes.”

“It’s not funny,” Mom spoke up, squeezing at my hand again. “Don’t listen to him.”

“You’re nineteen!” he cried out. “You just turned nineteen, and you’re already talking about marrying him?”

“Okay. I get it. We’re both young.” Letting go of my fork and knife, I held up my hands. “Let me rephrase the question: what are you going to do if me and Sawyer get married?”

He lazily lifted up a hand, letting out a low chuckle. “ I mean, can he even afford to buy you a ring?”

I blinked at him, eyes wide as I processed his words, because I was pretty sure that was the cruelest thing I had ever heard him say about anyone ever.

“Apologize to her,” Mom snapped at him.

“Aren’t you embarrassed that you care about money so much?” I asked, the words flying out of my mouth fast and hard. “If you’re not, you should be. It’s embarrassing and I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Was I wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t care if he gives me a five dollar ring or no ring at all,” I said. “I thought you were over this whole thing. I thought you were starting to like him.”

“That’s never going to happen.”

“We’re gonna be living in the same apartment together in a few days and—”