One Week Girlfriend (One Week Girlfriend, #1)(24)

Hate it.

I glance across the table, trying to catch my dad’s eye, but he’s so engrossed in conversation with the guy sitting next to him, he’s not noticing anything. “We’re really together,” I say through clenched teeth, trying not to look at her. The disgusted sound she makes draws my attention though, despite my efforts.

Her eyes flicker the slightest bit, revealing her hesitation, but she forges on. “So. Is she any good in bed? Does she know any special tricks?”

Jesus. I knew this would eventually happen, but not here. Not surrounded by hundreds of people. “Don’t f*cking go there.”

Her smile widens. She knows she’s struck a nerve. “Does she keep you satisfied, Andrew? That’s rather difficult, you know. Once someone breaks down all those steel walls you so carefully build around yourself, you’re quite…insatiable.”

Shame washes over me and I stand so fast, my chair falls to the ground with a loud clatter. Everyone at our table looks at me, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Adele sits there as serene as a queen on her throne. She doesn’t bother looking at me. She knows what she’s done.

“You okay, son?” my dad asks, his brows furrowed.

I don’t answer him. Instead, I escape, desperate to get away from Adele. I need to get out of this crowd. The room feels like it’s closing in on me, and my head is spinning. I don’t know if it’s from anxiety or the two beers I drank tonight.

All I know is I need fresh air. I’m headed for the terrace.

Headed for Fable.



Fable



“You’re still at Wade’s house, right?” I take a drag of my cigarette and exhale, momentarily captivated by the thin tendrils of smoke that float in the air. It’s cold as hell and I’m totally sneaking this stupid cigarette, since there are no smoking signs all over this freaking terrace. What’s the point of having an outdoor area if you’re not going to let people smoke?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here.” Owen sounds irritated as hell but I don’t care. It’s past nine o’clock, he should be in bed at ten and I want to make sure he’s where he’s supposed to be.

“Bedtime is ten, don’t forget it.” I flick ashes over the railing, again with the litterbug routine and I feel like a shit. What is it about all these fancy rich people that makes me act like I grew up in a gutter?

“But that’s so early. Wade doesn’t go to bed til eleven.” He’s whining. Yet again. Reminding me that he’s completely immature and still in so many ways a little boy, though he’s desperate to prove he’s practically a man who can take care of himself.

“Well, good for Wade. I still think you should at least be in bed by ten,” I relent, knowing he probably won’t listen to me.

I hate being away from him. There’s something going on, something he’s hiding from me, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what. I just hope he can keep his act together until I at least come home.

“Whatever,” Owen mutters. “Most of the time, you act like you’re my mom, you know?”

My throat swells up and I fight off the tears. I’m totally emotional tonight and I can’t really explain it. I blame Drew and his stupid, perfect lips. That kiss rattled some weird emotion inside my chest and I’ve been near tears ever since. “Someone has to stay on top of you.”

He laughs. “Ain’t that the truth?”

“Oh my God, use real words, please.” I laugh too, pleased that he’s in a good mood. Earlier when I talked to him, he’d been wary and evasive. I don’t want him keeping secrets from me, but I know it’s natural, considering he’s thirteen and all. His behavior will only get worse too, I’m sure. But I’m prepared. At least as prepared as I can be.

Men and their deep, dark secrets. I know Drew’s got a ton of them. I’m not sure what they are, but I have feeling they’re pretty major. He’s all bottled up and tense. I felt it in his body when he kissed me and I was in his arms. His body rigid, as if he was holding himself back.

I didn’t want him to hold back. Not then, and definitely not now. He puts up this fa?ade for everyone and I’m starting to wonder exactly who is the real Drew. And does he even know?

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Be good.” I draw on the cig, hold the smoke in my lungs before I release it slowly. God, I know how bad this is for me but I can’t help it. Smoking relaxes me. And hanging out at this shitty country club dinner, I need as much relaxing as I can get.

“Bye, Fabes.” No one else calls me that, just Owen. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I whisper, ending the call. I clutch the phone in a death grip since I don’t have a purse and I really don’t feel like shoving it in between my boobs.

“Smoking kills, you know.”

Drew’s sexy, deep voice washes over me and I glance over my shoulder, spotting him standing a few feet away. His hands are shoved in his pockets and the wind ruffles his dark hair.

He looks irritated and so gorgeous with it I wish I could take a picture. So I could capture this single breathtaking moment for all eternity and always have it—and him—with me.

“Following me?” I ask as I stub out the cigarette on the wooden railing. I don’t know what to do with it, so I leave it there like the total litterbug I’ve become.