Page 26 of His Relentless Angel

He takes my hand and places it over his heart. “Yeah, baby, I do. I’ll be home before you know it.”

Before we can kiss again, Mom pounds on the door. “Isaiah! Get your butt out here. Sherman’s on his way up.”

He gives me one last goodbye kiss, taps my hip to get me in the shower, then wraps the comforter around his lower half. “I love you, Bailey. I’ll see you tonight.”

I fix my bun to hold my hair back since I don’t have time to wash it. I clean the rest of myself, smiling as I wash between my thighs, even though it stings. It stings because of Isaiah, which gives me butterflies.

By the time I’ve dried off and left the bathroom, Mom has packed my duffel bag and hung up my garment bag by the door. She’s even laid out a new outfit for me. Mom pinches her nose and asks with exasperation, “Why don’t you have any panties or bras?”

“You know why…”

“Jesus, you and your scheming are going to give me a heart attack one of these days. No idea where you get it from.” She flutters her fingers over her chest.

“Oh please, you know I get it from you! I know all about the skirts you’d wear when you were interning for Dad and all the desserts you’d bring him so you’d have an excuse to lick your spoon like you wanted to lick—” She makes a strangled noise, and I snort. “I learned from the best, mother.”

Rolling her eyes, she sits on the other side of the bed, facing away from me. “Get dressed while we talk.”

I drop my white bath towel and pull on a pair of leggings. Then I unfold the—“You really bought me a sweatshirt from the gift shop?”

“Your dad bought out the whole store. Put it on.”

“You’ll have to blast the A/C the whole way home if you want me to wear this.”

She grumbles, losing patience, so I finally pull on the thick, oversized burnt orange sweatshirt with UT’s Longhorn mascot embroidered on the front in white thread. I roll up the sleeves, already starting to sweat.

Mom turns and claps her hands together. “Here’s the deal. I’m giving you one month to come clean to your dad. I despise lying to him, so I won’t do it for long. But you have to promise me that you and Isaiah will figure out how to tell him about you two without giving him a heart attack.”

“I’m not going to hide my relationship. We’re together, Mom. For good. Dad needs to know—”

She interrupts me with the truth. “If we tell him now, he’s going to march right over to Isaiah’s apartment, demanding answers, and neither will walk away from it with their relationship intact. I can promise you that. So, I’ll tell the girls to keep their mouths shut while you and Isaiah figure out the best way to break it to him, but I can guarantee he will be watching you like a hawk after this weekend. One month. That’s it. Agreed?”

She stands and pulls me into a hug when I reluctantly nod.

“I’m not going to say I’m happy for you and this situation, but—” Dad interrupts when he pounds on the door.

Tears blur my vision. It was silly of me to think my parents would be happy that the man I love—the one they think is too old for me—finally wants me back.

“One month,” she whispers, swiping her thumbs across my cheeks to catch my tears. Hand on the doorknob, she tells me, “I’m going to find your sisters before your dad does if he hasn’t already.”

Mom hurries past Dad after telling him I’m ready to go. He’s got about a million questions written across his face, but he mumbles something under his breath while he checks the time on his watch, then grabs my bags and motions for me to leave the room ahead of him.

The elevator ride down is uncomfortable, especially since Dad keeps staring at me in the mirrored wall, narrowing his eyes, though I refuse to meet them. When the elevator dings on the ground floor, we find Mom huddled close with my sisters and James, and all four snap their heads up when Dad says, “Time to go.”

Since my parents already arranged to have Autumn’s dorm room packed and her items shipped home earlier in the week, she’s able to ride home with us in the back of the minivan our parents rented, stuffed to the gills with everyone’s luggage. Autumn and I take the bucket seats in the middle row so Shayla and James can have the back bench seat together. They keep kissing and giggling, and Dad keeps up a steady stream of grumbling about daughters and high blood pressure.

After our first pit stop, we force James and an unhappy Shayla to switch seats with us. The first thing Autumn says as soon as Dad pulls back onto the highway is, “How does he fit?”

“What the fuck, Autumn,” I hiss angrily.

“No, seriously. You’re walking kind of funny today.”

“Shut up! I’m not talking about Isaiah’s dick with you.”

Autumn crosses her arms, and with a snooty look, she says, “Fine. I’ll just have to find out for myself.”

I growl, “I will rip every strand of hair out of your head if you so much as—”

Autumn barks out a laugh that has everyone turning their heads, even Dad, though he quickly looks back toward the road to straighten the van after the tires roll over the rumble strips on the shoulder. “You’re so easy to rile up. I’ll help you rip hair out if anyone else comes near him, I promise.”

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