Page 117 of The Jack*ss in Class

That got me a proper laugh. “True.”

“Second,” I continued, taking her hand, “I don’t need your mother to like me. I just need to be there for you.”

She gave me a wan smile. “That’s the only reason I’m not having a full-blown panic attack right now.”

The drive from my house to hers was only maybe twenty minutes, but because Tempest didn’t say a single word the whole way, it felt like twenty-hundred hours.

Before we could get out of the car, the front door opened. AbuelaNovela stood there, resplendent in a deep purple pantsuit that somehow managed to look both elegant and slightly theatrical. She waved to us, gesturing for us to hurry inside.

“Mi amor,” she greeted Tempest with a fierce hug. “Shoulders back. Remember who you are.” Then she turned to me, reaching up to pat my cheek. “And you, handsome boy. Be ready to pull out those muscles.”

With that cryptic warning, she ushered us inside.

Unlike when I was here for Abuela and Burrito’s party, we were directed into a formal living room where the entire family had assembled. Catalina, sat beside a slender, elegant woman who could only be Dr. Luz Navarro. The family resemblance was striking, though where Catalina was all cool polish, her mother had a sharpness to her features, accentuated by her impeccably tailored suit and the severe twist of her dark hair.

Beside her sat Professor Diego Navarro, ever the very academic-looking distinguished, yet nerdy gentlemanwith salt-and-pepper hair and reading glasses perched on his nose.

Rosalind, who had this disdainful shrewd look on her face, sat on her mother’s other side. Ophelia occupied an armchair near the window, while Freddie leaned against the fireplace mantel.

“Tempest,” Dr. Navarro’s voice cut through the silence. “I see you’ve brought your... friend.”

“This is Flynn Kingman,” Tempest said, her voice impressively steady. “My boyfriend.”

Fuck yeah, I was. I stepped forward, extending my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Navarro.”

She regarded my hand with the enthusiasm of someone being offered a dead fish before briefly shaking it. “Indeed.”

The professor rose, offering a firmer handshake. “Flynn. I’ve seen you play. You’ve made DSU proud out on the field.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries,” Catalina interjected. “We’re here to figure out Tempest’s... situation.”

Tempest stiffened beside me. I placed my hand at the small of her back, a silent reminder that I was there.

“You mean my career?” Tempest asked, her voice taking on an edge I’d rarely heard from her.

Go on with your bad self, my queen. I wanted to fist pump, high-five, and cheer that she hadn’t let their first play take her down. She was going to be a tough defender and I was here for it.

“Career?” Dr. Navarro scoffed. “Writing that kind of... book is hardly a career.”

“Those books are bestsellers, Mamá,” Tempest said. “They’ve been translated into fourteen languages.”

“And yet you kept them a secret,” Rosalind pointed out, her tone making it clear she thought this proved their shameful nature. “If you were so proud of this career, why hide it? This could cause those of us who want actual respectable careers a lot of trouble in the future.”

“Because I knew this is exactly how you would react,” Tempest shot back.

She needed a second to regain her composure, so I guided her to the empty loveseat, sitting close enough that our thighs touched. She was trembling slightly, but her jaw was set in determination.

“Do you have any idea,” Dr. Navarro began, her voice dangerously soft, “what this has done to our family’s reputation? Your father is a respected Shakespeare scholar. I am on the board of the Medical Association, your sister plans to be a lawyer. And now everyone knows our daughter writes—” She seemed unable to even finish the sentence.

“Romance novels,” Tempest supplied. “I write romance novels, Mamá. With sex scenes. Between consenting adults. Who enjoy themselves.”

I bit back a smile at her bluntness. It took everything I had in me not to proudly declare that I helped with the research for said sex scenes. Across the room, I noticed Freddie covering her mouth, eyes wide with what looked like delighted shock.

“This is precisely why I wanted you to pursue business,” Dr. Navarro continued as if Tempest hadn’t spoken. “Or at the very least, if you insisted on literature, to focus on classics, on works of substance.”

“My books have substance,” Tempest insisted.

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