Page 54 of Every Move You Make

“Are they?” I ask honestly as we walk to her modern kitchen. The whole place is beautifully bright with an open concept. The living room is sunken just off the kitchen. There are gorgeous white marble counters, an island the size of a queen bed, and a natural wood dining table just next to it.

Most of the walls are pale green with white trim and there’s so much of her here. Pictures of her and her team, her family. There are rugby cleats by the back door sitting next to high heels and running shoes.

Rugby doesn’t pay much, so this must be from that influencer money. Good for her.

“No, I swear I didn’t know these were your favorites. I just picked out the most striking bouquet. They remind me of you.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, opening a cupboard and pulling out a vase as I find a pair of shears to start cutting and arranging the flowers for her.

“They’re so elegant and strong. They demand you take notice. Long, lovely lines and gentle curves.”

“Are you really serious, or are you just saying that because you’re trying to show me what to expect from a date? Because I gotta say, no man has ever said something like that to me.”

My brows pinch together as I drop the clippings into the trash. “I’m serious, Robyn.”

“The most I've received from men in the past was take out.”

“That’s because you were dating boys, darlin’.” I arrange the last few stems until it’s finished, then look her deep in the eyes when I say, “And I’m USDA-certified grade A man.”

Heat kisses her cheeks before she smiles. “I know.”

A few minutes later, after opening her door and guidingher into her seat, I take my own. She looks over at me as if she's just now registering the car I drive.

“I know I was in here before, but I guess I wasn’t pay attention.” She glides her hand over everything she can touch. “What kind of car is this?”

“Audi R8.”

“Daaamn, Dell,” she drawls and then studies me. “Excuse my nosiness, but you’re either in crazy debt or you’re making way better money than me. Here I was thinking I’m killin’ it with my brand new Jeep,” she giggles, gesturing to her mint-green hard top parked next to us.

I know it’s shallow of me, but pride bubbles up in my chest and mixes with a little bit of guilt. “I’m doing alright. Making content and owning my own business has treated me well.” Pulling at my neck, I admit the rest. “And my family kinda has money.”

“What kind of money?” She shakes her head. “Sorry, that was way too invasive. Do not answer that.”

“It’s okay,” I say and pull out onto the street. “My parents and sister run a fifth generation whiskey distillery in Kentucky, just outside of Lexington.”

“What’s it called? My dad loves whiskey.”

“Castle Whiskey.”

Realization dawns on her. “What? That’s a really famous whiskey, isn’t it? I think I just saw Matthew McConaughey in an ad for it!”

I laugh, “Yes, that’s the one.”

“Jesus,” she mutters.

“But I swear, almost everything I own I paid for myself. I did get seed money from Gram for my business, which she would not let me pay back, but other than that, everything is me.”

“Do they know about your OnlyFans?”

I nod. “They knew when and why I started it and when it ended. My family is very… progressive, let's say. They didn’t love that I did it, but they were supportive as long as I was happy.

“My dad lived in Louisiana. Came from nothin’ and met my mom in college. After school, they got married and ran the business together. Kinda,” I chuckle. “Gram’s still kicking and acts like the face of the company.”

“Aww. Are you close with them?”

“Very. Gram is my best friend.”

“That’s so cute.”

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