Page 36 of The Burdens We Share
Selene and Dallas exchange a knowing look that makes me feel like some kind of outsider and I feel butterflies swarm my stomach at his words. I have to tell myself to relax because what he said was professional. It isn’t personal. I’m in good hands because that’s his job. Not because he’s interested in me or liked kissing me. Am I interested in him? Because I know I sure liked kissing him.
I quickly usher myself onto the plane with Dallas at my back. I’m nervous about bringing him home with me because I know my mother is going to assume he’s my boyfriend and not a bodyguard. I also know I can’t correct her because that wouldrequire me to tell her that I have a stalker and then that’s a whole other mess to clean up.
Once Dallas and I are seated on the plane across from each other, I blurt out, “You need to pretend to be my boyfriend.”
“Okay,” Dallas agrees, with no emotion on his face.
What? That’s it? He’s not even going to ask why? “Don’t you want to know why?”
He unlocks his phone and starts typing away. He doesn’t look up to answer, “I don’t need to know why.” He seems relaxed in a strange way.
“So you’re okay with pretending? It doesn’t bother you that I asked?”
He looks up at me, “Why would that bother me?”
“Because we aren’t actually dating,” I state the blatantly obvious.
Dallas expels a small breath that sounds an awful lot like a laugh and I swear the look on his face has me questioning whether or not I’m missing something.
Chapter 14
Dallas
We made it tothe hotel and dropped our bags off before hopping in the car Selene sent for us. Our hotel suite has two bedrooms, mine right next to Ivory’s as it should be. I need to be close to her at all times.
We’re on the way to Ivory’s childhood home and I don’t fail to notice the little devil anxiously playing with her hands in her lap and tapping her foot on the floor of the car. She stares out the window, watching people honk at each other and rage. I frown at the sights and sounds. I never cared much for New York, particularly Staten Island.
From my research, it didn’t seem as though Ivory was ever anxious about being around her family. “Ivory,” I cut through the silence of the car.
She looks at me immediately, a small, worried frown on her face. “What?”
I raise a brow at her, “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head a little too quickly, “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
I give her a look that tells her I don’t buy it and she sighs, “I’m just nervous.”
“Why would you be nervous to see your family?”
She sighs, suddenly looking incredibly exhausted. “I’ve never brought a guy home with me. My mom can be a little…intense,” she says awkwardly.
So her nerves over seeing her family are because of me. I’m well versed in her life in general, but particularly her familylife. Her mother is a serial dater, much like Harvey’s mom. She treats her kids more like her friends than her children. No wonder why her son is so troubled. “I’m not worried about it,” I try to be reassuring, but my voice comes out more stern.
She frowns, “ButIam.”
“For what reason?” I press her.
Ivory scoffs at me like I’m missing pivotal information, “My mom might push us for details and stuff about our fake relationship. I don’t like lying to her and I know she’s gonna put me on the spot with questions about you. Aboutus.”
I try to soften my eyes as much as I can, but I’m sure they look strained. “Let me help answer the questions. Stop worrying so much. You aren’t alone, I’m here with you.”
She gives me a long look before she sighs, “Yeah, I know. That might be the problem.”
I frown, “Just focus on what you came here to do. Focus on your brother.”
She groans, tossing her head back, “Fucking Sam.”
I smirk, “What? Can’t handle a sixteen-year-old?”
