Page 43 of Beneath the Fame

My front door had been unlocked and opened.

The other notifications I’d missed quickly solved the brief mystery of how the hell that might be happening.

“Oh,shit,” I hissed, my wide-eyed gaze going straight to Vee.

“What?” she asked, peering at me over her shades.

“My parents just walked in.”

Her mouth dropped open, and immediately she was up, the bowl of grapes discarded next to the chaise. “Where is my cover-up?!” she shrieked, and despite myself, I stopped to admire the sight of her in the barely there bikini she’d arrived in—wrapped in the decidedly more modest cover-up she was looking for now.

She spotted it and had it over her head just as voices reached my ears.

I looked up to see my parents heading for the back patio door, waving through the glass just before they stepped out.

There was exactlyzerochance they hadn’t seen her.

Not that they cared much.

Which was a fact about their personalities I was privy to by virtue of having grown up with them—Vee, not so much. Probably why she looked a bit shell-shocked as she approached to greet them and didn’t seem even a little calmed by my quick admonition in her ear to relax.

“Alec is like…a perfect blend of the two of you, so I have to assume you’re his parents,” she stammered, nervously pushing her shades up on her head as she stopped in front of them. “I’m so sorry I’m not appropriately dressed—I didn’t know you were coming.”

“That’s my fault,” I interjected, grabbing her hand to squeeze. “I knew y’all were planning to come up, but let the days get away from me. Busy,” I explained.

“We can tell.” My father smirked, extending his hand to Vee’s. “Jonathan Everett, Alec’s father. And this is my lovely wife, Priscilla.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” she answered, shaking his hand, and then my mother’s. “Vanessa Kirkland. Um…Alec’s…”

“Girlfriend, right?” my mother said, giving me a knowing smile before she looked back to Vee. “I already knowallabout you, Ms.Vanity,” she teased. “I’m a big fan, honey—come on and talk to me, I want some details about that bikini you didn’t want us to see,” she said, looping an arm through Vanessa’s to take her away from me.

“I—I’m—” Vanessa looked to me, eyes wide, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about that—not once Priscilla Everett had decided something.

“I don’t bite, honey,” my mother assured, already pulling her back toward the house. “We brought food, and I’ve seen the ass and hips on you girl—I know you eat!” She laughed.

Vanessa glanced back again, one more desperate plea in her eyes, but I just smiled at her.

I already knew she was in good hands.

Themeeting the parentselement probably hand her a little freaked out, and…rightfully. It was often a nerve-wracking thing. But my parents weren’t the stereotype that prevailed so often, of the snooty folks who didn’t think anybody was good enough for their son.

Which, with the personality that had been ascribed to me, wouldn’t have been surprising.

It just wasn’t the case.

My mother had actually been to severalVanityconcerts with her group of friends—all of whom had kids grown enough to be in attendance too. She’d actually been more excited than I was to find out that Vanessa was going to be on the show with me. She wasn’t just saying she was a fan to make Vee feel good—sheactuallywas.

And when the romance rumors started circulating, she’d been one of the first people to call me.

And she was one of the first peopleIcalled when it wasn’t a rumor anymore.

Obviously, I hadn’t shared anything about our sex life, because that would just be weird, but my parents knew better than damn near anyone that I was more than a little serious about us being the real thing.

“So I see exactly why you couldn’t greet your old man at the door this time,” my father teased after we’d watched my mom walk Vanessa back into the house. “That’s one hell of a distraction from that phone.”

I chuckled. “Yes, she is, but still—my bad. I should’ve been more on top of my schedule. The days are starting to run into each other.”

“You’re young—that’s how it should be.” He nodded, taking a seat at the patio table. “Me and your mom don’t have to hang around, if you’re?—”

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