“Vincent Wesson.” She smacked me lightly on the chest. “I didn’t raise you to talk like that and I certainly didn’t raise you to be a prick to women.”
I threw my head back laughing. “Prick? Really, Mom?”
She huffed and strode into the kitchen, which opened into the living and dining area. “Yes. You’re a prick.” I followed after her, breathing in the heavenly smell of her homemade spaghetti sauce. “You think I don’t see Facebook?” Facebook, too? The posts on FB were not ones a mom should ever read. “Why don’t you take after your brother and find a nice girl and—”
“Mom,” I groaned. Same old shit, ever since Ream and Kat hooked up last year. Now, she was on my case about settling down. I dipped my finger into the thick red sauce on the stove then stuck it in my mouth.
“Vincent,” my mom shouted. “I don’t even want to think where those hands have been.”
I grinned. “Yeah, good idea. Don’t think.”
She attempted to slap my hand, but I ducked out of reach, laughing.
“Son.” My dad strolled into the kitchen and shook my hand while squeezing one shoulder. “Back from the salt mines. How was the tour?”
“Great.” Except for some Tammy chick, who was thinking she was going to marry me. I didn’t like having to cancel Seattle. Doing that to the fans sucked big time, but with the Tammy shit, my blow up at her and Luke’s phone call about Haven, it was enough. Kite was already talking to the manager about re-scheduling Seattle at least.
My dad and I were the same height, although that was where our similarities ended. He had a slight paunch, and dark thick eyebrows, which matched the stubble on his face. He spoke eloquently and had poise, fitting the status he worked hard to get to as one of the top condo developers in Toronto. Bottom-line, though, he was one hell of a good guy. Mom lived doing charity work and they had a yearly scholarship in their name at the University of Toronto’s business program.
“Where’s your brother?” And that made me love my parents even more. They insisted on calling Ream their son and it was fuckin’ cool of them.
I thought of Haven—when wasn’t I?—standoffish and keeping everyone at a distance. She was going to have a tough time doing that once my parents got their hooks into her.
“Come on, son, leave your mother to cook. I want to hear about the tour.” I thought I was going to get away with it, until he added, “And why you’re back early.”
Fuck.
“Hon,” Mom called. “A girl called here for you yesterday.”
“You didn’t give her my number did you?” I didn’t need any chicks getting my cell number.
She rolled her eyes, tsking. “I’ve been filtering your calls for years, no. Of course not. She said she’d catch up with you later.”
I kissed my mom on the cheek. “Cool, thanks, Mom.” Then I followed Dad out onto the large deck where the patio table was already set for dinner. Mom did the balloon thing like it was a kid’s birthday party and a welcome home banner strung above the sliding glass doors. Fuck, she rocked.
Dad and I chatted about what went down with this Tammy chick following me around and sending me gifts. Well, I chatted, and he listened, brows drawn low over his eyes as he nodded and took it all in. Only after I was done did he say anything and that was, “You must take after me in the looks department. Girls can’t resist us.”
I laughed because there was nothing further from the truth and we both knew it.
Kite showed up an hour later, then Logan and Emily with Logan’s mom Isabelle. I leaned against the railing of the deck, nursing my beer while Logan and Kite told my dad about the business side of the band: the manager we fired, the security issues we encountered until six months ago when we hired Luke’s Shield Security, a recommendation from Deck, after Haven came back.
I took it slowly with the beer since I was driving later, but I was on edge while constantly listening for the front door to open. Where the hell was she? No way would Ream be a no- show.
I saw her laugh today. It was brilliant—stunning. It was like strumming the guitar and hitting a few new chords that makes your chest open up and your whole body to fill with electricity. It was that magical moment when you find something fresh and knew it was going to be a hit.
The front door opened and shut, and my heart skipped a beat then tap-danced its song.
Ream’s voice echoed in the large marble foyer as he called out to Mom. The girls were in the kitchen and my mom was laughing at something Emily said about Logan’s shoes being chewed by Tear.
I watched the screen door, the grip on the neck of my beer bottle tight, the cold damp glass clinging to my skin. The undeniable reality was . . . Haven did it for me. I loved how she was tall, yet still fit under my chin when she was curled into me yesterday. Confident and strong but I’d seen her vulnerability and fuck, that broke me. I wanted to bust down her walls and force her to let me in. That was the exact opposite as to what she needed, so I didn’t push. I waited. And waiting was hard as hell because I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and have every inch of her wrapped around me.
Ream slid across the screen door and walked out. Our dad got up, slapped him on the back and shook his hand. “Good to see you, son. Where’s your other half?”
Ream gestured with a head tilt toward the kitchen. “With the moms and Emily. Something about testosterone overload for the last few months.”