Page 82 of About That One Night
“Mom, we’re not getting married,” I interrupt, my voice sharper than intended. I take a calming breath before continuing.
“I gather you’re here because you’re delivering some news,” Mom says a little short.
Dad’s face pales, and he reaches for Mom’s hand. “Other than you’re dating him?” he asks, concern etched into every line of his face. “Are you sick? Is this why you’re with him? There are always options?—”
As Dad’s words trail off, I feel a mix of frustration and affection wash over me. Leave it to my parents to jump to the worst conclusions. I squeeze Max’s hand once more, drawing strength from his presence as I prepare to drop our bombshell.
“Dad, can I speak?” I interrupt, my voice firm buttinged with a hint of desperation. My father’s words are veering off in an entirely wrong direction, and I can feel the tension building in my chest.
Dad blinks, caught off guard. “Sure, sit down.”
I shake my head, my feet planted firmly on the ground. “No, I think I’m just going to give you the news, let you work through it, and then when you’re ready to support me, you can call me.”
Dad’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open slightly. Mom leans forward as she says, “That’s not how things work in the Harper family.”
I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. “I agree, but I’m starting my own family—McCallister-Harper. Which means we’re doing things our way,” I say boldly, my heart racing but my voice steady. “Max and I are expecting a baby. We don’t know exactly how this is going to look, but we’re happy about it and we hope you’ll receive our child with the love they deserve.”
A heavy silence falls over the table. I can see the shock written across my parents’ faces, their eyes darting between Max and me. Before they can recover, I lean down, quickly kissing Dad’s cheek and then Mom’s. Without a second glance, I turn and walk away, my legs trembling slightly but my stride purposeful.
I hear Max’s voice behind me, calm and polite. “We’ll be in touch. It was great seeing you, Mr. and Mrs. Harper.”
Once we’re outside, the cool air hits my flushed face. Max turns to me, his eyebrows raised. “That was . . .different. Can you repeat it this evening with my parents?”
I laugh, the sound a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. A sigh escapes my lips. “It was crazy, wasn’t it?”
“Why did you do it that way?” he asks, his hand finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.
I pause, considering my words carefully. “When I saw them, I realized that no matter what I said, they were going to have an opinion on what I should do.” I run my free hand through my hair, the events of the last few minutes replaying in my mind. “You heard Mom. She’s already wondering about the wedding. Dad’s going to tell me I have to beg my former boss to hire me again.”
“You don’t need to. I can take care of you and our baby,” he reminds me and before I can protest, he adds, “And I’ll support you in anything you want to do with your career. Anything.”
I look up at Max, my eyes meeting his. There’s understanding there, and it gives me the courage to continue. “Thank you. Honestly, I . . . I’m tired of listening to everyone’s opinion on what I should do with my life.” My voice cracks slightly. “This is our baby, our decision. I just want their love and support.”
As we step into the McCallisters’house, my stomach does a somersault. The grand foyer, with its gleaming hardwood floors and tasteful artwork, is afar cry from my parents’ cozy bungalow. I’ve met Max’s parents before, but never on their home turf. My palms feel clammy, and I resist the urge to wipe them on my jeans.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The enormity of what we’re about to do hits me like a freight train, and I can feel my heart racing.
Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he turns to me. “I’m just here to sacrifice you, don’t worry,” he teases, his lips curving into a playful smirk.
I growl, narrowing my eyes at him. “Not funny, McCallister.”
He chuckles softly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose. The tender gesture helps to calm my frayed nerves, if only a little.
“Just kidding,” he says, his voice warm and reassuring. Then, his lips brush against my ear as he whispers, “Tonight, I’m going to reward you for dealing with them. I’m going to love every inch of you, Zoe. I’m going to worship your body, remind you how much you mean to me. You’re my good, filthy girl, and I’m going to make you beg for more.”
Heat pools between my legs, my breath catching at his words. The promise of what’s to come later, the intimacy and raw desire in his voice, sends a thrill through me. I can already feel myself getting wet for him, my body responding to his filthy promises. How am I supposed to meet his parents like this?
Max pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with a heated gaze. Seeing my flustered state, hesmirks knowingly. Then, raising his voice slightly, he calls out, “Mom, Dad, we’re here.”
I brace myself, expecting a formal greeting or perhaps an awkward silence. Instead, I’m caught completely off guard as Max’s mother appears from around the corner, her face lit up with a radiant smile. Before I can even process what’s happening, she’s enveloped me in a warm, welcoming hug.
“Zoe, darling. It’s so wonderful to see you,” she exclaims, her arms wrapped snugly around me.
For a moment, I stand frozen, my arms hanging awkwardly at my sides. This isn’t at all what I expected from her. Slowly, I relax into the embrace, bringing my arms up to return the hug.
“It’s great to see you too, Mrs. McCallister,” I manage to say, my voice muffled against her shoulder.
She pulls back, holding me at arm’s length and giving me a once-over. Her eyes are warm and kind, crinkling at the corners as she smiles. “Please, call me Linda. We’re practically family now.”
