Page 107 of Wrong For Me

Her expression finally grows serious. “I don’t have the best track record with that either.”

I smooth her hair back, needing a distraction from the surge of anger I feel for the asshole who betrayed her. “I’m probably going to be a really shitty boyfriend in a lot of ways.”

“Are you my boyfriend?” she whispers.

This should probably be one of those moments that sends me into defensive mode. I wait for the warnings to start up in my head, the voice that tells me not to trust this feeling, not to trust her. The voice that tells me to protect myself from all the ways this could go so very wrong.

But nothing happens. It’s just me and Rose, laying here in my bed. So I tell her the truth.

“Yes. I’m your boyfriend. And you are most definitely my girlfriend. All mine.”

God, bravery is worth it when it makes her smile like that. “I like to be all yours.”

We don’t talk for a few minutes after that because I have to kiss her. But I pull back before things can progress much farther. She needs to know this.

“Your happiness is very important to me, Rose. You love your parents. Don’t stay away from them because of me, okay? I don’t want that.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. “You would really go to Sunday lunch? You know it won’t just be my parents, right? It’s like, everyone. All the cousins, the siblings, the aunts and uncles. My grandparents even.”

I laugh. “If nothing else, it will be interesting. I have zero clue how such a huge family even works.”

She sighs. “I guess you’re going to find out.”

* * *

I knewthe house was going to be big. This is Daltrey Ransome that we’re talking about. But I’m still more than a little stunned when we climb out of Rose’s car on Sunday. The brick mansion we’re standing in front of is massive, with a sloping green lawn and immaculate landscaping. I expect to see a lot of cars parked on the street, since so many people are supposed to be here, but then I remember what Rose told me about her family all living so close. They probably walked.

Apprehension stirs in my belly. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb in there. I’m not the guy who enjoys loving family get-togethers, not the guy who belongs anywhere near such a classy, elegant house. I don’t think I really understood just how out of my depth I am with Rose until I’m standing in front of the mansion she grew up in, about to meet her family.

“Hanging in there?” she asks.

I force a smile. “Piece of cake.”

She shakes her head. “If you think my brothers and Will were bad, you’re not going to believe my dad and my uncles. I can at least reason with Will. These guys areridiculous. They still think I’m six years old, I swear.”

I boop the tip of her nose, just because I know it will piss her off. “That’s because you’re so cute.”

She scowls, and I bite back my laugh. “You’re smirking now, but I’m serious, Leo. Alex laughed until she cried when she found out I was bringing you here. They’re going to be awful.”

“Hey.” I wait until she meets my gaze. “I’m a big boy, Rose. I can handle it. Promise. Besides, I really want to meet your Aunt Paige.”

She laughs, some of the tension leaving her. “You might regret those words.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

She leads me through the house and I do my best not to gape around. I also do my best not to think about the trailer park Mom and I lived in for a year and a half when I was a teenager—probably the longest we’d ever stayed anywhere, the closest thing I had to a family home.

That place could fit in the Ransome’s living room.

There are female voices coming from the kitchen, and Rose pulls me into the room. “Hey,” she calls in a bright voice. “What are you all doing inside? Hiding from your children already?”

The three women stop what they’re doing and look up, their faces brightening immediately upon seeing Rose.

“Sweetie!” one of them calls, holding up the glass pitcher they’re all crowded around. “We’re making sangria!”

Rose laughs. “Of course you are.” She tugs me forward. “Leo, these are two of my aunts. Karen and Paige.” She points at each of them, then at the third lady, who’s on the shorter side with long, tightly curled brown hair. “And that’s my mom. You guys, this is Leo Malone.”

The woman who’d been excited about the sangria claps her hands together. I didn’t need Rose’s introduction to guess who that is—I’ve heard enough about Paige to know her when I see her.

“You brought him!” she squeals, darting towards us. “I’m so excited!” Then she’s hugging me and I can do nothing but send Rose a bewildered look over Paige’s shoulder. She doesn’t bother holding back her laugh.