#Hater (Hashtag #2) (17 page)

“Do I look okay?” I worried. “Think your mother will approve?”

Romeo reached out and grabbed me by the waist. “You don’t have to impress her. I don’t want or need her approval. You’re my girl. The end.”

“No take backs?” I whispered.

He smiled. “No take backs.”

I turned back to Ivy. “I might not be back ‘til morning. You gonna be okay?”

“Yep. Just me and my biology book.”

“Text me if you need anything.” I grabbed my coat off the bed.

“Thanks,” she said sincerely.

I smiled. “And thanks for making me look presentable.”

“You look hot,” Romeo corrected loudly.

A couple girls who were walking by the room giggled.

Ivy waved me away, and I shut the door behind us. Romeo dropped his arm across my shoulders as we exited the building.

My hair floated out around me with the evening breeze, and Romeo caught a strand of it before he opened the door to the car. “You really do look beautiful,” he murmured, dipping his head low.

“Thanks,” I said against his lips.

His kiss ignited instant desire inside me. Even though I spent last night with him, and the night before, I missed him terribly. I felt like we hadn’t had enough alone time. I wanted more. I wanted so much more.

He groaned and pulled back. “Let’s get this dinner over with,” he said grumpily. “I want to spend some time alone with you.”

“You read my mind.”

“Now that the season is over, we’ll have more time together.”

“Want to just go to Taco Bell and hide at your place?” I asked when he slid into the driver’s seat.

He laughed. The sound filled the interior of the car. “Why, Rimmel,”—he pressed a hand to his chest like he was scandalized—“are you suggesting we stand up my mother?”

I giggled.

“I knew it,” he drawled. “Underneath that sweet exterior lies the heart of a baddie baddie.”

I laughed out loud. “A baddie baddie?”

“Like totally,” he said in a valley girl voice and pretended to flip the long hair he didn’t have.

God, I loved him.

“So what do you say?” I taunted as I smiled. “Want to play hookie?”

He groaned. “I’d love to, baby, but we can’t.”

I stuck out my tongue.

“Watch what you do with that thing, baby girl.”

“Yeah? Or what?” I challenged.

“Or we might be late and I might mess up the perfect hair and makeup you got going on.” His eyes twinkled and he fake gasped as he put the car in gear. “Just what would mother say?”

As we got closer to his place, my lighthearted mood began to slip away. The headache I fought so gallantly this morning threatened to reappear.

I worried my “cover” wasn’t going to be good enough. I worried that whatever I did tonight, no matter how good, wouldn’t be enough.

I had a feeling she’d already formed her opinion of me and she wouldn’t be swayed.

If that were the case, it didn’t matter how I styled my hair or what I wore.

I would never get the approval of Romeo’s mother.

Romeo

My protective instincts were roaring again.

I took a deep breath and told myself to get control.

She was so nervous sitting there in the passenger seat of the Hellcat, twisting her hands in her lap and bouncing her leg. The thought that a dinner with my parents made her like this pissed me off. I shouldn’t have to protect her from my mother. I shouldn’t have to protect her from rich douchebags who stalk women in private bathrooms and spread rumors around about their honor.

When I thought of all this shit and drama I brought into her life, it twisted my guts. I was surprised she even wanted to still be with me. I was surprised she wasn’t running as far away as she could get.

Just the thought of it made me crazy.

I loved her so damn much. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.

I was going to protect her from that. From anyone and anything who even hinted at trying to destroy it.

I reached across the seat and threaded my fingers through hers. She looked at me and smiled. I’d never seen her hair so straight or smooth before. Usually, it was all wild and unruly. I loved it, though, but I loved this too. It was like I peeled back a layer of her I hadn’t known existed.

I couldn’t wait to see what layer I would uncover next.

When I parked in the driveway, she fidgeted with her glasses. Rimmel adjusted them on her nose and ran her fingers through the length of her hair.

“If this dinner sucks, we’ll leave and go to Taco Bell.”

She laughed. “Promise?”

“Hey,” I murmured and tucked a silky strand of hair behind her ear. “They’re gonna love you. There’s no way they won’t.”

She nodded.

The inside of my parents’ house was quiet and warm. Soft jazz music and their low voices floated from the direction of the kitchen, and before we followed it, I took her coat and hung it by the door.

I looked underdressed beside her, in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved waffle-knit tee.

“Roman,” my mom called. “Is that you?”

“No. It’s Santa Claus,” I called back.

Rimmel didn’t even crack a smile. I took her hand and she squeezed it in a death grip. We walked toward the kitchen together, and I could feel her taking in the cool-toned walls, rich furnishings, and all the details of this house that I probably never noticed. It made me curious about where she grew up, what her home looked like.

My mother was standing at the island and my father was pouring them each a glass of wine. They both looked up when we walked in, and my mother’s eyes went right to Rimmel. They widened a little as she took in Rim’s appearance, and I smiled.

My father was much less obvious in his inspection. In fact, if I didn’t know him, I would think he barely glanced at her before turning to me.

But I knew better.

Anthony Anderson gave the appearance of seeing nothing, when in reality, he noticed everything.

“Roman,” my father said, abandoning the wine and coming forward. “And this must be Rimmel.”

He stopped in front of us and held out his hand. Rimmel took it immediately and gave it a good shake. “I can certainly see why Roman is so taken with you,” Dad said. “You’re quite the beauty.”

Rimmel smiled. “Thank you, sir. You have a lovely home.”

“None of that sir business!” Dad said and smiled. His blue eyes twinkled. “You can call me Tony.”

Tony.
I lifted an eyebrow at him in question. He merely winked at me. He never told anyone to call him Tony. My mother didn’t even call him that.

At my side, Rimmel relaxed and a genuine smile replaced the polite one.

“You’re not some lame vegetarian, are you?” my dad asked her.

She laughed. “What if I was?”

He huffed. “Then I’d have to tell you to go back to calling me sir.”

“Good thing I’m not a lame vegetarian, then.”

Dad chuckled and I grinned. He was pulling out all the Anderson charm tonight. I glanced at Mom and wondered if he was going overboard to maybe make up for whatever my mother was going to say.

“Roman tells us you’re studying to be a veterinarian.” Dad continued. “That takes almost as much school as being a lawyer.” He held out his arm to her. “Come over here and tell me about the program.”

Rimmel slid her hand in the crook of his elbow and they went over to the island where she went into full detail about her chosen career path. The passion and love she had for animals was so evident that my chest swelled with pride.

My mother listened quietly, sipping her wine. She studied Rimmel like she was some painting in a museum. It was like she was looking at her from every angle, gauging her depth and hidden meaning.

When I’d had enough, I caught her eye and shook my head imperceptibly.

“Are we ready to eat?” she said, actually listening to me.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Rimmel asked politely.

“No. It’s all already in the dining room.”

Dad commandeered Rimmel once more and guided her into the dining room. He was talking animatedly about some case he was working on, and Rimmel listened aptly.

“Well,” Mom said when we were alone, “she seems to have won over your father.”

“Maybe you should give her a chance,” I said.

“Perhaps,” she allowed.

This was a big house and my parents were very comfortable in their finances, but the house wasn’t austere. It didn’t have that untouchable quality that made people nervous when they were standing inside.

The dining room was basically a large square with windows on one side. They looked out over the landscaping and then on to the pool. The floors were dark hardwood and in the center was a large area rug in varying shades of green. Sitting on top of the rug was an oak table that sat ten. Instead of chairs, on the one side there was an upholstered bench in a light-colored fabric. The two end chairs were high-backed and tufted in dark, mossy-green velvet. On the other side of the table were more chairs, but these were simple and in the same fabric as the bench.

There were platters filled with several dishes already on the table. All of them were in classy-looking serving dishes that Mom removed the lids from as we all sat down. Salads were already placed at our seats, and each of us had a glass of water. In addition to the four different Italian dishes to choose from, there was garlic bread and a platter of stuffed mushrooms, which I snagged and popped one into my mouth.

Dad took a seat at the head of the table and I slid across the bench and patted the seat next to me for Rimmel. Mom sat across from us in one of the other chairs.

The conversation was pretty light. Dad and I talked about the game most of the time and about how epically I played. I told my parents about my brief meeting with the NFL scout, and Dad launched into a detailed plan to get the man on the phone and get some kind of offer drafted up. Mom behaved herself, and the more time that passed, Rimmel relaxed and was able to be more like herself.

“So, Rimmel…” Mom began, turning all her attention on Rim. “Tell us about your father. What does he do?”

I prayed this wasn’t the beginning of a freaking inquisition.

Rimmel set down her glass of water and replied. “He works in construction. He’s been doing it my whole life. It keeps him busy.”

Dad nodded. “I’m sure with the weather in Florida, he’s always busy. Without all the snow, construction season is probably every season.”

Rimmel smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. He even worked over the winter break when I was home.”

I glanced at her. She never mentioned that. I was under the impression that he took off to spend time with her. It made me wonder how much time she spent alone. The thought of her sitting around alone during the holidays wasn’t an image I wanted sticking in my brain.

“That must have been lonely,” my mother said, almost as if she could read my thoughts. I glanced at her, but she wasn’t even looking at me. She was looking at Rim, her eyes soft.

“Oh, no,” she said quickly. “It wasn’t. I spent a lot of time with my grandmother.”

“You’re close with her, then?” Mom asked casually.

I finished what was on my plate and sat back, making sure to tuck my arm around Rimmel’s waist. I hoped it sent a silent message to Mom that I wasn’t going to put up with the questioning.

“Oh, yes,” Rimmel answered. There was clear affection in her tone. “Her and my grandpa. After my mother died…” As soon as the words left her mouth, she slammed her lips closed and her eyes widened. I felt her shock in the stiffness of her body. Her surprise at how she just brought that up in conversation. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about with anyone.

She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry, I—”

I tightened my arm around her. “They know, Rim. I told them your mom passed away when you were eleven.”

Her body relaxed a little. “Oh.” She smiled up at my mother. “Well then, I guess that didn’t catch you off guard.”

“Not like it did you,” my mother replied.

My eyes narrowed.

Rimmel didn’t bat an eye. She chuckled. “Yes. Well, my mother’s death isn’t something I bring up in casual conversation. Especially not with people…” She paused and then said, “With people I don’t know very well.”

“It’s quite all right, my dear,” Dad said, understanding in his tone.

Rimmel smiled at him. “I guess that just means I’m comfortable around your family and feel I can tell you about myself without any kind of judgment.”

Her eyes swung to my mother and didn’t waiver.

Point for my girl.

I picked up my water and drank some, not wanting Mom to see the smirk on my face.

“Of course not,” my mother replied smoothly.

Rimmel continued like she hadn’t missed a beat. “Anyway, after my mother passed, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.”

“Romeo tells us you have a scholarship to Alpha U,” Dad said, changing the subject.

She nodded. “Yes. Why else would I move here from the warm Florida climate to freeze in the snow?”

Dad laughed heartily and his blue eyes twinkled.

Rimmel gazed up at me and smiled. “I see where you get the blue eyes.”

I wanted to grab her and kiss the shit out of her. I didn’t think my mother would agree that was good dinnertime behavior. So I settled for giving her a lopsided smile.

“Who wants cheesecake?” Mom asked, getting up from the table. She glanced at Rimmel with a little bit of haughtiness in her stare. “Cheesecake is Romeo’s favorite.”

Seriously? She was trying to one-up my girlfriend by proving she knew what dessert I liked best?

“Well, I can understand why,” Rimmel said and smiled. “Can I give you a hand?”

The look in Mom’s eyes cleared. “No, thank you. I’ll just get it and be right back.”

I squeezed her hip. I didn’t know why I’d been nervous. Rimmel could handle my mother all by herself.

While she was in the kitchen, Dad turned the subject again. “That was some party last night,” he said.

I grimaced. “I hope it didn’t keep you and Mom up all night.”

He waved away my words. “Nonsense. I can sleep like the dead. We used to have parties like that every weekend when I was in Omega.”

The mention of Omega made me think of Zach. The muscles in the back of my neck tightened. “Speaking of… There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Rimmel gazed at me with a question in her eyes, but I pretended not to see. I hadn’t spoken to her about this yet. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t have a choice.

Mom reappeared carrying a huge round cheesecake with chocolate ribbons on top. She set it down beside my father and began cutting thick slices and transferring them onto plates. When she handed me my piece, I set it down and ignored it.

Dad sensed whatever I wanted to say was serious, so he gave me his full attention.

“I need you to take out a restraining order on someone.”

My mother gasped and Rimmel shot straight up on the bench. “A restraining order!” Mom exclaimed. “What on earth do you need one of those for?”