Page 101 of A Vine Mess
I’d chosen a suit for tonight so dark blue it was nearly black, a stark white shirt beneath, a maroon tie and pocket square. I’d received strict instructions that my tattoos were not allowed to be on display, and though everything in me balked at the idea of buttoning myself up and pretending to be someone I wasn’t, ultimately, I decided it wasn’t a fight worth having.
Besides, Ella would scandalize my family enough for the both of us.
She must’ve had an endless supply of black dresses tucked away in what little luggage she’d brought with her, because while it was the same color, this one was entirely different from the one of the night before.
I swear to god, the thing must’ve been custom made for her. That was the only explanation for the way it perfectly formed to each curve and dip of her body, leaving absolutely nothing about her figure to the imagination.
Words completely eluded me, my mind blissfully blank. All I could do was twirl a finger in the air, urging her to spin in a circle. She happily obliged me, even going so far as to pop her booty out and shoot me a wink over her shoulder before facing forward again.
“Where the hell did you get this?” I asked, approaching her and running my hands over her hips, the satin catching against my callouses.
“Aria,” she said simply.
“Remind me to send her a thank you card. Mygod, woman.”
The front draped into sort of a cowl that offered a perfect view of the upper curves of her breasts, thin straps arcing over her shoulders and tying behind her neck. The entire back was exposed, as were the bulk of her tattoos—just the way I liked them.
I leaned in, pressing my face into the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply. I’d never be able to smell jasmine again without thinking of her, without being reminded of this trip.
As if sensing I had every intention of latching onto her skin like a goddamn vampire, then traveling south and repeating the process on her pussy, Ella pushed me away and gave me a pointed glare.
Turning me toward the door, she patted my ass and said, “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”
I sighed, knowing she was right.
It was time to face the firing squad.
The first person to see us when we arrived in the bar downstairs, which had been closed to the public for this weekend, was my mother, and I was grateful for the opportunity to ease Ella into things before she’d be thrown to the wolves. I’d do whatever I could to protect her, but my father and brother were assholes, and there weren’t many ways to shield someone from the words they tended to dole out like pointed barbs.
“Oh, my baby boy,” my mom said as she approached, her hands coming to my face, simply resting there as her blue eyes—myeyes—darted across my face. “It’s been too long.”
“I know,” I whispered, leaning in to hug her. “I’m sorry.”
In the same way that Ella’s scent now reminded me of the happiness and joy we’d found on this trip, my mother’s warm vanilla one would forever bring me back to the only fond memories I had from childhood.
After lingering a little longer in that embrace, simply because I hadn’t seen her in so long, I let go and stepped to the side, ushering Ella forward.
“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Ella. Ella, this is mom, Andrea.”
“Girlfriend?” Mom said, blinking in surprise a moment before her mouth tipped up in a grin and holding a hand out for Ella. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ella. And please, call me Drea.”
I quirked a brow. Sheneverallowed anyone save close friends to call her by her nickname. In that motherly way of hers, she must’ve sensed Ella was a good one—and that this relationship was going to stick forever if I had anything to say about it.
Before conversation could continue, a voice boomed out behind us, and I audibly groaned.
“William, my boy!” my father boomed as he approached our little circle, forcing himself into the space between me and my mom. “About time you showed up. We thought you were getting in yesterday.”
“We did,” I said coolly and without elaboration.
“Well, nice of you to show your face, then.”
“Good to see you as well, Dad,” I said through gritted teeth.
“And I see you’ve dragged someone in off the street,” he said, his upper lip curling.
“This is Ella, Will. Liam’s new girlfriend.”
My dad huffed out a disgusted sound, not even bothering to pretend for the sake of keeping up appearances.
