Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Shaking my head, I laughed as I continued to watch Atlas. Her stubborn ass was still sitting in that hot car with her arms crossed since she refused to get out after I made it clear I wasn’t just stopping by.
I’d brought her here to meet my parents.
“Are you crazy?” Atlas shrieked. “I can’t meet your parents dressed like this. Take me home so I can change.”
“Nah, I gave your ass a chance. You didn’t want to listen.”
“Because I thought you were being a controlling jerk—like always!”
“Well…” I snickered. “Now you know.”
“Hey, hey. What’s going on?” my father demanded. His deep and authoritative voice had drifted from one of the back rooms where he’d been chilling.
I looked over my shoulder to see him leaving the den and swaggering down the dark hallway toward me. His head damn near touched the ceiling since he was the only man I knew whose height matched mine.
I sucked my teeth and grumbled, “I brought my girlfriend to meet ya’ll, but she won’t get out of the car.”
My father’s green eyes, which I’d inherited from him, assessed me. “Why? What did you do to that girl?”
“Me? Pops, she’s the one you need to talk to. I swear this girl wakes up every day thinking of ways to piss me off.”
“I see.” He chuckled. “Well, your mother mentioned that she was young.”
Inwardly, I cringed since I hadn’t told them just how young Atlas was. I was already preparing myself for a lecture from my pops once he got me alone, mostly because my mom would make him.
“I can tell you from experience that it’s because your girl wants to know she can. You’re my son, so I know you,” he said—a fatherly way of admitting he knew I wasn’t shit. “If you didn’t care this deeply about her, you wouldn’t get so upset, and she knows it. I’m guessing you haven’t told her you loved her yet?”
Uncomfortable with the subject, I shifted my feet. “Nah.”
My father nodded. “Then, for now, this is her only way of assuring herself that you do.”
“If you say so.”
My dad sighed and shook his head at me the same way I often found myself shaking mine at Atlas whenever her skull got too thick to penetrate. “Move, boy.”
I shifted to the side, letting him step out onto the porch. My scowl only deepened when my father slowly approached the car, like he was afraid Atlas would get spooked and run away.
She absolutely would, which was why I made sure to take the keys.
Pops knocked on the window, and I bit my lip to keep from telling him he was wasting his time. I saw Atlas’s hesitation just before her scary ass cracked the window barely an inch. The opening was just enough for my father’s voice to reach her clearly but not enough for him to see inside.
“Hey, there,” his smooth-talking ass greeted.
For as long as I’d been alive, I’d never known a woman who could resist my father’s charm.
It used to drive my mother crazy until her accident. After, it became clear that in sickness or health, my father had eyes only for her—nothing and no one could change that.
It was wild how I looked exactly like his ass, but our personalities were polar opposites.
Michael Wray was what some would call a gentle giant—quiet, unassuming, respectful, and patient. The only thing we had in common besides our reflections was that he was a beast with his hands.
“Hi,” Atlas shyly replied. I couldn’t quite hear her, but I’d read her lips just fine.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you and my son, but I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be resolved inside and away from this hot sun.” Still, Atlas hesitated, and my father noticed. “You like pancakes? My wife made some that will make your mouth water and forget all about whatever my son did since I’m sure this misunderstanding is his doing. If you like, I can make him leave while the three of us get to know each other better.”
“I like pancakes,” Atlas admitted, but she still didn’t agree to come inside.
“Good. My son has never brought a girl home to his mother before, so she’s dying to meet you. Been cooking all morning. Nice girl like you, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?”
I swear I could see Atlas blushing from here. “No.”
My father smiled gently. “Excellent. May I?” He stood and gestured toward the car door, which he only opened after earning Atlas’s slow nod.
It wasn’t until she climbed out of the car that I realized she’d found my Idlewild’s Finest hoodie in the back seat and had thrown it on. The sweatshirt was so big on her that the hem damn near fell to her knees, completely swallowing her curves and the bare skin she’d put on display to piss me off.