Page 12 of He Loves Me Not

"Come on," he says before I even stand a chance of recovering. "They're waiting for us."

Right. Our parents.

Gulp.

It feels like everyone in the restaurant turns to look as he escorts me through the luxurious dining room to a table in the back. Half of them probably make as much as he does. I'm surea few of them are as well-known as he is, but it feels like all eyes are on us.

Everyone except Mom and Dennis, anyway. They're cuddled up together on a banquette, with Dennis whispering something in her ear. She giggles like a teenager, her blue eyes shining with adoration. She looks so happy.

"Look who I found," Dawson drawls, breaking them apart.

Mom glances up, a bright smile overtaking her face. "Hey, sweetheart!"

They both rise, sweeping us into hugs.

"You look beautiful, Ava," Dennis says, smiling gently. I swear, the man is nothing like his son. He's sonice. There isn't a grumpy bone in his body. He kisses my cheek before releasing me to hug Dawson. "I'm glad you could make it, Son."

"Wouldn't miss it," Dawson murmurs, smirking at me. "You know I never pass up an opportunity to eat."

My knees aren't weak. I chose to sit. Really, I did.

Dawson sweeps my mom into a hug, making a big show of kissing her on the cheek. Her laughter rings out around us before she swats him, making him grin. "My dad taking good care of you, Janice? If not, the offer still stands."

"Sweet boy," she says, touching his cheek.

"What offer?"

"I offered to put my foot up his ass," Dawson says, sliding in next to me. Ordinarily, the banquette would be plenty big enough, butordinarilydidn't take into account his sheer size. He's pressed up against my side in one long, delicious line, crowding me up against the wall on my left.

I'm officially trapped between his body and the wall. And all I can think about is how I was trapped between his body and the fridge last night.

"There's no need for that," Mom says, oblivious to the sinful heaven I'm trying not to revel in over here. "Your dad is taking great care of me."

"Glad to hear it," Dawson murmurs.

"I ordered a bottle of wine for the table," Dennis announces.

The groan slips out before I can stop it.

Naturally, everyone turns to look at me.

"Sorry." I grimace. "Bad memories."

"Of wine?" Dawson cocks a brow.

"Girl's Night was Saturday," I explain. "We may have drunk too much."

"Ah." Dawson smirks at me. "What else did you do?"

"Nothing much," I practically squeak. Is there a world where I tell him that I plucked petals from a flower and played MASH while trying to figure out if I had a chance in hell with him? Absolutely not. I'd rather die.

"Uh-huh." His hand lands on my thigh.

I jump, jostling the place setting in front of me.

"My bad," I mutter, reaching beneath the table to shove his hand away. That lasts for all of two seconds before it's back on my thigh, creeping higher.

I'm going to kill him. Murder and maim and…Oh God. His hand is between my thighs. Our parents are across from us.