Page 12 of 21 Week Hiatus

“And let me guess, she was the head cheerleader?” she asks with a grin that lights up her entire face.

I can't help but join in on her infectious laughter. “Nope,” I reply. “She was the math club president.” Savi's mouth drops open, her eyes wide with shock and delight.

“Youand a math nerd?” She giggles again, a sound so sweet it could make flowers bloom on a barren desert. “Okay, Mr. Peirce, color me intrigued. Tell me more,” she requests, resting the elbow of her free arm on the table and dropping her chin in her hand while she gazes at me, her eyes twinkling with interest.

“To be honest, Wildfire, there isn’t much to say,” I state calmly. “Maria wasn’t your typical nerd; she possessed natural beauty, was grounded, and incredibly smart, while most girls were focused on popularity. And that's what drew me to her—her independence and confidence in marching to the beat of her own drum. Despite the constant attention from many of my teammates, she remained true to herself and never let it go to her head.” I explain, my mind drifting back to memories of Maria— her calm demeanor and effortless grace, always standing apart from the chaos and clamor of high school drama. “She didn’t show any interest in any of them where most girls would have let it inflate their ego.”

“Until you.” Savi says, her gaze adoringly searching my features as she speaks softly. “Even she couldn't resist the beguiling charm of LoganPeirce. It’s no easy feat, I can totally sympathize. I imagine the poor girl never stood a chance against that face and wicked tongue of yours.”

I flash her a roughish grin, feeling both flattered and amused by her compliments. I keep my eyes locked on hers as I lift her hand and brush a lingering kiss against her knuckles. “Both of which I attained much later on in life. Senior year was when I really hit my stride and became a cocky little shit who drank too much and couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for more than five minutes.”

Savi’s smile matches mine, her eyes igniting almost immediately. “So, not much has changed then?” she intones suggestively while she skims her fingers along my bearded jaw. “You still seem to be right on par with the latter.”

“Are you complaining, Miss West?”

“Never,” Savi responds with an impish smile. “Quite the opposite actually. I’ve become rather fond of your kinky fuckery.”

I’m about to respond when our waiter arrives at our table and gracefully places our first course in the center. We both decided on the rosemary and honey baked camembert accompanied by warm doughballs to share. The irresistible aroma of the melted cheese fills my senses as soon as it is set down, making my mouth water in anticipation.

As we savor each bite of our meal, the conversation flows effortlessly between us. Savannah regales me with tales of her high school experience, proudly mentioning that she was the valedictorian of her class—an achievement that comes as no surprise to me. She then delves into the details of what inspired her to pursue a career in event management, her passion evident in every word she speaks. The clinking of silverware and murmurs from other diners surrounds us, but it feels as though Savanah and I are in our own little world, wrapped in the details and anecdotes of our pasts. After our mains, I gesture for Savi to move her seat so she’s sitting beside me rather than opposite me. I’ve managed to go long enough without touching her and want her close when I ask her to move in with me.

My left hand reaches up to gently comb through her hair, feeling the strands slip between my fingers effortlessly. She looks at me with a curious smile and asks, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

I let out a small laugh as I move my hand to softly caress her cheek, keeping my gaze fixed on hers. “There's something important I want to talk to you about.” Her eyes widen with interest as she nods in silence.

“Okay…”

Inhaling, I take a moment to sort through what I want to say, or how I’m going to ask her. “I’ve been thinking?—”

“Savannah?” Both Savi and I look up when we hear a woman call out her name. A frown forms on Savi’s face as she slowly twists in her chair to face the older couple standing behind her.

“Mom?” Savi utters, startled to see standing before her the middle-aged woman in her early fifties with shoulder-length blonde hair, warm brown eyes, and a slim, toned physique that belies her age. At first glance she seems to carry herself with an air of grace and elegance. I shouldn’t at all be surprised that’s her mother because clearly Savi snatched up her mother’s striking beauty. “Dad?”

“Sweetheart, what a lovely surprise,” her mother gushes, smiling at her daughter who slowly removes her hand from mine and stands to properly greet her parents. I follow suit and stand there awkwardly while her father curiously observes me.

“Wow. Indeed, it is, what are you two doing here? Since when do you two eat Italian food?” Savi questions airily, giving her parents a hug.

“We wanted to try something new,” Savi's mother explains, gently touching her daughter's face. “A friend recommended this restaurant and we're glad we took their advice. The food here is absolutely delicious.” She turns to me with a polite smile. “Is this one of your clients? Oh dear, did we interrupt a business meeting?” she asks apologetically. “I'm Ellis West, Savannah's mother, and this is my husband Declan West. We're terribly sorry if we interrupted anything important.” I am at a loss for words as I shake hands with Savi's parents. Unsure of whatto say, I look over at Savi who looks back at me with wide eyes. Suddenly, she steps closer to me and speaks up.

“Mom, this is Logan Peirce. He's not a client... he's...” She trails off and gazes up at me expectantly. My stomach tightens and my breath catches in my throat as I wait for her to finish introducing me. “My boyfriend,” she finally declares, but there's an underlying hint of hesitation in her tone that makes it sound more like a question than a statement.

Jesus, it’s been a very long while since I’ve been called that. Savi and I haven’t really discussed what we are yet, nor is anything official, but as I’m planning on asking her to move in with me, I think boyfriend is about right.

However, judging by the horrified look on both her parents’ faces they’re not too pleased to meet me at all.

Someone, kill me now.

Of all the places and times for my parents to randomly show up they choose this precise moment. This is not how I intended to introduce Logan to my parents. When they mistook him for a client I panicked and introduced him as my boyfriend which I now feel really stupid about. Especially since we’ve not had a conversation about where we are in our relationship, nor did he ask me to be his girlfriend…yet.I was hoping that’s what he wanted to talk to me about. Either that or he’s following in his son’s custom and was preparing to break up with me.

God, I hope not.

Shit, did I just go and put him in an awkward position by jumping the gun and assuming we’re exclusive? Looking at him now, he seems a little ill at ease.

The clinking of plates and the low hum of violins among the chatter fills the air as I shift uncomfortably under my parent’s disapproving stares. I can feel the weight of Logan’s hand in mine, a lifeline amidstthe sea of my family's disapproval. My grip tightens, a silent plea for support, as we face my parents across the white linen-draped table. My mother's pearl necklace seemed to constrict like a noose around her neck, her eyes widening more by the second. My father stands impossibly still, his bushy eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of dismay.

“Your...boyfriend?” my mother's voice trails off, an octave higher than before, as if the word itself was foreign and distasteful. I nod in confirmation, and she lets out an awkward laugh and looks to my father for assistance. “I… how could that be? I don’t understand, weren’t you dating thatyoungman, Trent?”

Oh boy.

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