Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(67)

Being here was like a f*cking cage. It made me understand Ari a little more, and I also wondered how the f*ck she had turned out so normal.

“So, Grant,” her father said after dinner was served, “what exactly do you do?”

Everyone’s eyes shifted to me.

“I’m in a band.”

“Right. But what do you do?”

I stared back at him, wondering if this was a f*cking trick question. “I play guitar and sing lead vocals.”

“Uh-huh. So, you don’t have a job then?”

Ari’s hand came down on the table and rattled her drink. “Didn’t you hear him? He says he plays in a band.”

“Do people consider that a real job?”

I ground my teeth together. I would not f*cking explode. “Yes. I’m signed with Pacific Entertainment. They’re a major record label. We’re on tour with The Drift, a popular rock band.”

“And that pays?”

“Yes.”

It was easier to agree than to go into the details of how advances worked.

That seemed to momentarily satisfy him because his attention shifted to Henry. He asked him super specific banking questions that were clearly directed only to Henry.

Great. I f*cking understood Henry was a f*cking hotshot douche-bag banker.

He’d graduated from f*cking Harvard. I’d come to realize that people who went to Harvard all had one f*cking thing in common. They made sure everyone f*cking knew they had gone to Harvard.

Conversation was going on all around me, yet I didn’t seem to be included in anything. Ari was turning red with anger. My blood was boiling at the whole exchange. This wasn’t how you f*cking treated people. Just because I wasn’t in line to become a CEO of a bank didn’t mean I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.

“Mother,” Ari snapped. “I’m sure you’re dying to get to know Grant better, aren’t you? He’s only here for one night before he has to go back out on tour.”

“Oh. Of course. Grant, how did you and Aribel meet?”

We exchanged a glance. It wasn’t exactly a family-friendly conversation.

I figured I’d f*cking paraphrase. “Her roommates liked my band, so they got her to come to one of my shows. We hit it off from there.”

“Fascinating,” her mother said dryly.

“Okay. I can’t hold it in any longer,” Aaron said in frustration. “Did you sleep with Mary Beth Hensen?”

“Aaron! Oh my God!” Aribel cried.

“Let him answer the question,” Aaron said.

I shrugged my shoulders. How the f*ck was I supposed to know if I’d slept with a chick? How many times had I met Kristin before I remembered who she was? Five or six, and I only remembered it because she was the cause of my fight with Aribel. I was horrible with names and faces.

“I don’t know.”

“How could you not know?” Henry asked.

“Stay out of this,” Ari growled. “Grant, ignore them. They have no right to interrogate you.”

“Seriously? You can’t remember if you slept with her? It was my best friend’s girlfriend.”

Aribel smacked her forehead with her hand and sighed dramatically. “So f*cking ridiculous.”

“Language!” her mother cried.

“This is like a circus. Fuck,” I mumbled. “I don’t know if I slept with your friend’s chick. If that’s what you’re holding over my head, then there’s not much I can f*cking do for you. I never forced anyone to have sex with me. So, she must have been willing.”

The table went silent, but all eyes were on me.

Great.

I must have f*cked up and pulled some social faux pas, but no one was freaking out that Aaron had brought up me having sex with some other chick in the first place.

“Aribel,” her father said. Disapproval rang clear in his voice.

I couldn’t stand for it. They couldn’t talk to her or look at her like that.

“Hey!” I cried. “You can’t be disappointed with her. She’s brilliant, beautiful, strong, hard-working, and unbelievably confident. Look down on me for whatever bullshit you’ve thought up in your head. I’m poor with no college education and no real job. I’m everything you wanted to keep away from her, but you can blame me for that. You can’t f*cking look down on her—not her, never her. She’s spotless, pristine, and she’s the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I stood up from the table and tossed my napkin down.

“You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

In horror, I watched Grant walk out of the dining room through the back door and outside. How had it all gone so horribly wrong so fast?

“Good Lord, Aribel,” my mother said. “What kind of person did you bring into our home?”

“This will not do,” my father said.

I closed my eyes for two seconds and tried to calm down.

Grant and I might have had our problems in the past, but we’d worked through them. We had figured out how to have a real relationship despite our differences. With him on tour, we had tried to trust each other, work through the issues with his dad, my parents, our friends, and so far, we had come out ahead. There was no way I was going to stand by and let me family insult him for their prejudice.