Home > As Long As You Love Me (2B Trilogy #2)(30)

As Long As You Love Me (2B Trilogy #2)(30)
Author: Ann Aguirre

“She likes you. I admit, it’s hard not to. So what’s on the agenda today?”

“I’m working on the house for a while, then I have dinner with my mom and dad.” His expression said he wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Am I allowed to tag along?” The offer burst out before I could stop it.

“Do you want to?”

I pinned on a look of faux good cheer. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

Rob laughed. “Too far. But if you could stand coming, it would take some of the pressure off me. That way, they can’t talk about certain things.”

“Because they think I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

“So let’s do it. Do you mind swinging by my mom’s so I can change before we head to Casa Conrad? What I wore over here is crumpled from being on your floor all night.”

“Are you trying to be distracting?” he demanded.

“That depends. Is it working?”

“Only always. I woke up last night wanting you, and I still do. Since you came back, I’ve been hard so much that I’m thinking about seeing a doctor.”

“No need. It’s normal for a guy your age to have certain...urges.”

“All the damn time?” he grumbled, but there was a playful light in his eyes.

“I’m willing to take you on,” I answered. “It’ll be exhausting, but I can train up.”

“It’s too early for you to be this cute.” Rob kissed my forehead and went into the kitchen to make breakfast while I headed up to shower.

No clean underwear, so I went without. I considered mentioning this over breakfast in his room, but that would mean that nothing got done on the house. Yet maybe I should give him the choice. As we ate, I said, “So the way I see it, we can be good worker ants today. Or...we can go back to bed since you don’t have anywhere to be until tonight.”

His fork paused partway to his mouth. “What?”

“It’s just a question of priorities,” I teased. “Are you a hedonist or a pragmatist?”

“Explain.”

I realized I’d used a couple of words he didn’t know and not given enough context for him to figure it out. “A hedonist lives for pleasure. A pragmatist puts work first.”

“Hmm.” His expression didn’t reveal the shame I’d noticed before, however. Such a relief; it would kill me if I hurt his feelings all the time.

“So which is it?”

“Would you think it’s weird if I want to work on the house?”

I shook my head. “Though I’m wondering why.”

Rob chewed his lip for a few seconds before admitting, “I’m enjoying the anticipation. Once we have sex, all the questions will be answered, but right now, we can imagine anything. Everything. While waiting is making me nuts, I...like it, too.” His gaze captured mine, so darkly, beautifully blue, like a building storm.

We’d definitely have blue-eyed babies.

“Then I’m curious why you let me—”

“Jerk me off? I needed that, Lauren. You have no idea how much. But I want to take my time with the rest.”

I’ll make it good for you. I’ll just put it in a little. Come on, you know you want it. Lines I’d heard from other guys flashed into my head, and my cheeks heated as I imagined using them on Rob. How odd, fighting the impulse to pressure a guy for sex.

“Okay, remodeling it is.”

He hesitated, obviously concerned. “Are you disappointed?”

“Of course not. You’re not a stud horse. If we fuck, you should be ready emotionally and want it every bit as much as I do.”

“When,” Rob said softly. “Not if. But I need to get my head on straight first. I did just break up with Avery, and I was with her for all the wrong reasons. Now there’s this shit with my family, and I don’t want to use you as an escape hatch.”

I shivered a little as his knuckles grazed my cheek. “What if I’m okay with being used?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Dammit, he was right, and it was so sweet, I couldn’t stand it. “Then let’s make some progress on the house.”

We worked for six hours, then Rob dropped me off at home to get ready for dinner. “I’ll be back in an hour. Is that long enough?”

I grinned. “If it’s not, you’ll have to wait.”

“Deal.”

My mom came home while I was in the shower. She yelled something up at me but I couldn’t catch it, so I shouted back, “Give me ten minutes.”

It was more like half an hour, but I eventually came down in my robe, only to find Stuart and a couple of elderly people sitting in our living room. The woman was in a pretty floral dress while the men had on suits, and my mother looked beautiful with a new strand of pearls around her neck. Stuart’s eyes widened slightly while the woman blinked and the older man shifted his face away as if he was distressed by my dishevelment. Glancing down, I saw my robe had gaped open and I hauled it shut quickly, my hands shaking. They didn’t speak for several beats, leaving me with a sick hole opening in my stomach. “Uh, hi.”

My mom wore the frozen look of a woman bound for purgatory. “Lauren, these are Stuart’s parents. We’re all going out to dinner at the Grove.”

Humiliation nearly choked me, but fortunately, social, Party Lauren surged to the fore. There was nothing for it but to play the scene without proper costuming. “So nice to meet you. I hope you have a wonderful time. The food is fantastic there. But if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready now. I’m so sorry for coming down like this. I didn’t realize we had company.” I flashed the smile I’d been told was pert and charming and then retreated.

For a full five minutes, I sat in a ball in front of my closed door, as my stomach roiled. I didn’t budge until I heard them leave. I fought the urge to bang my head on the wall, but no time for that—Rob would be here in twenty minutes, and I was spending the evening with his parents, a task that seemed fucking impossible. I tried, God, I tried to pull myself together before he got there, but I was still in my robe and on the verge of tears when the bell rang.

I tiptoed downstairs, knees shaking. If they haven’t left yet...But there was nobody around, freeing me to let Rob in. When I opened the door, he asked, “Are you okay?”

His gaze was fixed on my face, so it couldn’t be the robe giving him the impression I was a mess. In a breathless rush, I told him about making an ass out of myself in front of Stuart’s parents. This was the kind of thing normal people wrote off. They shrugged and went on, but if I let it, it would become another brick of anxiety in the wall that made me terrified of going places, talking to people. Each humiliating moment stuck to me like glue, a lifetime of fuckups that was driving me crazy, until I became someone else. But I couldn’t stand that life, either.

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