Page 187 of The Illicit Play

Yes! That’s my girl.

“But, sweetheart,” Mrs. Wilson sputters. “We’re trying to support you.”

“You can do that by trusting me.”

Her mother blinks, her eyebrow arching. “You’re asking us to do that after what we just saw on my computer?”

“That’s her past,” I softly growl. “Don’t you dare hold that over her.”

They look at me like I have no place in this conversation, but fuck that. I’m protecting my girl no matter what.

Blake squeezes my hand again, giving me a small smile before turning back to her parents. “As soon as my ankle’s better, I’m going to get a job. The doctor said I’ll be able to walk around normally within the next week. I’ll still need to be careful, but I can at least start looking for work.”

“Why do you need a job?” Mrs. Wilson looks mystified.

I turn away so she can’t see my eye roll.

“To teach me some discipline, get me back into healthy habits. I want to work until the end of the summer, and then I’m hoping to enroll here at Nolan.”

Her parents frown in unison, but her father does at least ask, “What are you planning on studying?”

Blake sucks in a breath, and I look at her with an encouraging smile. “I’m going to start over. Enroll as a freshman again. And I’m hoping to focus on photography and conservation.”

Her mother’s eyebrows rise. “And what do you plan on doing with that?”

Her smile tightens, her grip on my fingers increasing, as she can sense her mother’s growing disapproval. “I’d quite like to become a wildlife photographer, Mom.”

“A… what?”

She might as well have said “unemployed gypsy,” andI can’t help a soft snicker. Seriously, her parents are too much.

“How will you ever make money doing that?” Her father shakes his head. “Blake, you’re worth so much more. You’re too smart to do…photography.” He spits it out like it’s some dirty word, and Wily huffs, tipping his head back with a cringing wince.

Blake clears her throat. “Actually, Dad, I’m smart enough to pursue something that makes me happy. It’s not about the money. It’s about taking classes that are interesting. Just because I’m good at something doesn’t mean I love it. I want to love school. For the first time in my life, I want to enjoy going.”

“But you do love school,” Mrs. Wilson argues. “You’ve always loved school.”

Blake shakes her head. “Not really. I just pretended to, because I knew you wanted me to be the study geek, and I was afraid if I wasn’t that, then you…” Her expression flickers with doubt. “Then you wouldn’t be proud of me anymore. All your love and attention would go to Wily, and there’d be none for me. If I wasn’t performing up to your standards, I didn’t think… you’d want me anymore.” Her voice starts to wobble, the last few words coming out as a soft rasp that makes my chest hurt.

“Baby,” I softly whisper, trying to catch her eye.

She’s looking down at our hands, and I rub my thumb across her silky skin, desperate to assure her.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson are gaping at their daughter but not saying anything. And the weight in the room is so freaking heavy it’s almost hard to breathe. I’m two seconds away from asking them to leave. Unless they can say something reassuring, I don’t want them here.

Her mother sucks in a breath, resting a hand over her chest, and then Mr. Wilson starts to blink like he’s fighting tears. His expression crumples as he gets out of his chair and walks across the room.

“Aw, bean.” Dropping to his knees beside the couch, he pulls Blake into a hug so tight that she lets out a little squeak. “Of course we love you. Always. You’re our girl.”

“You are,” her mother blubbers, then looks at Wily and Satch. “She is.”

Wily gives her a reassuring smile as she rises from her seat and walks over to join her husband. Running her hand down the back of Blake’s hair, she smiles at her daughter with tears in her eyes, and I think this is the closest I will ever get to a Hallmark experience.

Darting my eyes across the room, I spot Satch’s glassy smile, then share a look with Wily. He snickers, shaking his head as he plays with his football, giving it a squeeze, then catching his sister’s eye.

“What do I do?” she mouths when her father still hasn’t let her go.

Wily starts to silently laugh, then murmurs, “You wanted their love. You got it, sis.”