Page 83 of Fashionista's Playbook

God, she was amazing.

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For the first time since foster care, I sat down to Thanksgiving dinneronThanksgiving. Same as the last time, this family wasn’t all mine by blood. The difference—this time my heart was happy. I hadn’t realized just me and Vin in front of the television wasn’t enough until now.

Linc sat between DeSean and Moriah’s mom, easily sliding from conversation to conversation. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. He’s the only one who knew, the only one I’d trusted with what Vin and I had done.

If Vin knew I’d told him—shit would fly.

Beside me, Moriah joked with her dad. Her mom smiled and the two little boys chattered above everything, one of them pushing his car across the table to DT. Their mother ignored them, alternating her attentions between DeSean and my brother.

I glanced at Vin, who seemed more amused by her intentions than serious.

Thank God.

As warped and messed up as it all was, I enjoyed being a part of this dysfunctional family and would remember this day for the rest of my life.

“To the first time I’ve ever used this room,” I stood and raised my glass. The others clattered around.

“Well, here’s to hoping we all use it again soon.” Moriah’s mom winked at me, very obviously searching for another holiday invite.

“Since you and Moriah are so happy.” She was beaming. Her husband blinked, confused.

Almost as confused as I was.

Moriah stiffened beside me.

“She deserved to know. Mom worries all the time about you.” The smug look of challenge Elise wore snapped the veryair around everyone tight. “Heaven forbid darling Moriah think about someone other than herself.”

I grabbed Moriah’s hand under the table, squeezed gently.

“Elise—” Her mother started.

I mainly tuned out arguments, it’s what kept me in neutral territory when the locker room got heated. But this was different. Years of harbored resentment and anger were far different than too much testosterone and competitive assholes.

“No, Mom. I won’t sit here quietly anymore. She doesn’t call, she doesn’t visit, and you worry all the time. Is MoMo happy, is she safe, is she taken care of? When she’s here, shacked up with some superstar football player and keeping it from you.”

Vin cackled and reached for his beer.

He got ashut the hell upglare from Moriah before I could say anything.

“I’m not shacked up with anyone. My relationship is between Travis and I—not a table full of people.” She smacked her cloth napkin on the table. “Just because your marriage is in the toilet doesn’t mean you have to cause problems for me.”

“Yo Chambray, she’s single.” Vin tipped his bottle at DeSean.

He exchanged a loaded glance with me. He’d beat my brother’s ass if I just gave the go ahead. I didn’t, though it was tempting.

“Moriah!” her mom’s voice was impossibly shrill.

“I no longer have an appetite.” Moriah stated angrily.

Elise snorted. “That’s a first.”

Moriah’s back snapped straight. But she didn’t turn.

“You’re in my house,” I leaned forward on the table and used my size in much the same way as I had in the jewelry shop weeks ago. “Your parents are the only reason I don’t throw you out on your ass. Disrespect her like that again and I will.”

Self-righteous anger flashed in Elise’s eyes.

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