Page 102 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
“Jim, that’s enough.” My mother’s tone was sharper this time.
He completely ignored both of us, his eyes still locked on Devin. Inappropriate questions was bad enough; now he was trying to order my boyfriend around like he was some sort of animal.
Devin coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“You heard me. I want to see those tattoos on your arms.”
“Dad,” I hissed through gritted teeth. He ignored me.
Now Devin was beginning to crack. His expression was blank, his face drained of all color. The mask of sweet, charming obliviousness was gone. His eyes widened, his irises swirling with panic as he shifted his arms from the table to his lap.
This wasn’t about the tattoos. Devin had no shame about them.
He didn’t want my dad to see his scars.
“I told you,” My father grumbled to my mother. “Tattoos are the mark of the devil, and he’s covered in them. This is really the man you want courting our daughter?”
“DAD!!”
I yelled so loud I swore it shook the townhouse walls. My mom had her head buried in her hands, and Devin looked like he was about to be sick.
Dev…
I wanted to reach out. Hold his hand. Tell him how horribly sorry I was that I subjected him to this.
There was a loud screech against the tile floors as Devin pushed his seat back, muttered an “excuse me” that was barely audible, and retreated to my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
My attention snapped back to my dad, and I glowered at him with my brown eyes full of fire.
“Way to be an asshole, Dad.”
“Avery!” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “Language.”
“That’swhat you’re concerned about right now!?” I pushed my chair back and stood up, my fists coiling up in rage. I had never wanted to blip my father out of existence as much as I did at that moment.
“You’d better watch your attitude,” he replied flatly, his face still taught as a rubber band pulled too tight.
I forced down a shaky swallow, and the tension in my fists loosened.
“You know what? I’m not doing this right now,” I turned away and stormed off toward my bedroom.
“Avery!”
“Fuck off!”
I slammed the door behind me before my dad could respond.
Jesus Christ.I leaned my head against the textured wooden door, taking a few moments to catch my breath and let the adrenalin dissipate from my veins.
It was replaced with sorrow when I saw Devin sitting on the edge of my bed.
His head hung low, which made his shaggy black hair fall forward and cover his face. His sleeves were rolled up, and I watched for a few moments as he ran his fingers along the scars that lined his forearms.
“God, Devin, I’m so sorry…” my voice croaked. I felt like this was all my fault. I was the one that invited him to dinner with my tyrannical father.
He lifted his head, and I could see those beautiful blue-green eyes shining through strands of dark hair. Eyes that were heavy with sadness.
“Come here,” he pleaded, extending a hand in my direction. I threw my concerns for my parents walking in on us out the window and plopped down in his lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
