Page 91 of The Other Side
32
Icouldn’t help but fidget nervously in the car, the entire three-hour drive to Portland.
Chance had asked me to pack an overnight bag, saying that we’d likely be staying with his parents, but that if anything went wrong, he’d be happy to abandon the party and find a hotel. We’d also timed our arrival much later in the evening to limit just how long we’d have to spend at his childhood home.
The problem was that I was fully unequipped and unprepared to meet his parents. Everything was still so new. I had no idea what we were to each other, and neither did Chance. Surely his parents would ask, and we would have no answer.
To further my impending mortification, I only owned the one black dress, which would likely make me look more akin to the waitstaff than the other guests, in their black-tie accouterments. This was a slow-motion disaster in the making and I was helpless to stop any of it.
“My sister can loan you a gown. She has plenty,” Chance had offered.
I shook my head in refusal. He didn’t know her measurements or mine. All women don’t fit into the same clothes. Was he nuts?
“Then tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable. I don’t want you to feel out of place. Although I’m sure nobody will say a word.”
You could turn around.
I choked out a laugh. “Chance, we’re showing up together. They’ll be looking, and judging, and gossiping for weeks to come.”
“None of them matter.” Chance squeezed my hand. “Fuck ’em.”
I sighed in exasperation. It wasn’t as easy as that. I was allowing him to drive me into the lion’s den. I was putting myself on display in front of the type of people who made me want to shrink and become invisible.
It wasn’t that I cared about what they thought, exactly, it was that I didn’t want to even be around them. I didn’t want to risk my fragile and slowly burgeoning self-confidence, which Chance had been nurturing for weeks with small touches, soft smiles, and his quiet, but patient respect for my boundaries.
One snobby look and all of that work could be shattered in an instant. I didn’t want it to happen like that, but I had to acknowledge that it would be a possibility.
Pulling into the long driveway, I could see the twinkling lights of the mansion in the distance. Avoiding the line for the valet, Chance pulled around back to the service entrance. It was where I belonged anyway.
“Violet.” He grabbed both of my hands after parking and turning off the car. “Look at me,” he commanded.
It was hard to ignore him when he used that voice. I felt my cheeks flush as I briefly wondered what it would be like if he used that voice on me in different, more intimate, circumstances.
He squeezed my hands, and I involuntarily met his gaze.
“You are the smartest person I know—”
I guffawed.
Chance clenched his jaw. “I don’t care that you don’t believe me. I know what I see in front of me. You are smart, beautiful, sexy, and you’remine.” He emphasized the last word, his eyes searing into mine with dark intensity.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d never had anyone lay such a claim on me before. I wasn’t sure if I loved or hated the way it made my stomach flip to hear him say that. Maybe both.
“Whatever happens in there, whoever is beyond those doors, it doesn’t matter—theydon’t matter. Onlywematter. Do not let them rattle you. They don’t hold a candle to you. None of them know shit about classical history, or care about the education of their children, other than the prestige of the school, and none of them believe in me like you do. So fuck ’em, right?”
He nodded toward me, encouraging me.
“Fuck ’em,” I said in a small voice.
Chance shook his head, smirking. “Oh little muse, you can do so much better than that.”
I bit my lip upon hearing his nickname for me again. “Fuck ’em,” I said with a bit more force.
“Louder,” he ordered.
“Fuck ’em!” I practically shouted in his face.
He grabbed my face, pulling me in for a bruising kiss. Showing me with his mouth and tongue how proud he was to call me his, proving that we could weather this storm.
