Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kash
Imight vomit all over my tux and shoes. I got up extra early to see Elaine and had her cut my hair.
For the past few weeks, all I’ve heard is Rhett’s voice in my head.
“You’re a ladies' man with a top knot and tattoos.” I’m not that guy anymore; maybe I wasn’t even supposed to be that guy.
There’s no doubt some therapist somewhere would have a field day with my mommy issues turning me into a man whore, but I don’t need someone to tell me what I already know.
My dad died, and Mom’s choice to leave made me very anti-relationship.
I know Mila’s parents, and while they seem cool, I wanted to make a better impression on them than before.
They already know me, but not as someone who is spending a large amount of time with their daughter.
Intimately. They just know me by extension.
I want her mom to like me, and for her dad to not look at me like he is right now.
Fuck.
My lips are still tingling from Mila’s kiss. Little waves of electricity course through my blood, but the look on her dad’s face puts a small damper on them.
“I want to introduce you to my boyfriend. This is my Kash.” She holds my hand proudly, fingers twined through mine.
My Kash. The idea of Mila claiming me so easily to her dad makes me want to pull her into my arms and kiss the shit out of her again. My half-hard cock is now rock solid, and I try to discretely adjust my stance so it’s not obvious.
“Mr. Morgan.” I hold my hand out, hoping he shakes it and doesn’t punch me instead.
Looking between Mila and me, he lets out a sigh and clasps his hand with mine, shaking it.
He grips it so tight I want to wince, but I can’t show any reaction.
I can’t look weak. Instead, I offer a smile and hope he doesn’t actually break one of my fingers.
It would be difficult to tattoo with my non-dominant hand.
“Kash,” he returns my greeting. “How are you, son?” Releasing my hand, he moves his to his pants pocket.
Flexing my hand a few times, I do the same but wrap an arm around Mila. I can’t not touch her. “I’m good. How’s business?” God, that sounds so stupid.
“It’s good,” he deadpans, staring at me, then at my arm wrapped around his daughter. Shit.
“Oh, there you are.” Mila’s mom, Willa, joins us, together with Mara. “I’ve been looking for you.” She kisses Daniel’s cheek and turns to us. Looking between our group, she quirks a brow. “What’s going on?”
“Yeah, Mila. What’s going on?” Mara smirks.
“Your daughter was introducing me to her boyfriend after I interrupted them kissing in the hallway,” he explains, looking at his wife.
Mara’s face splits with a shit-eating grin, and I want to scowl at her but don’t. Not only is she still kind of scary, even in a fancy dress, but I don’t think it’d be a good look for me.
“Oh, well, isn’t that lovely. You clean up nicely, Kash.” She kisses my cheek. “Now, come tell me all about how you and Mila ended up together.” She loops her arm through mine, leading me into the banquet room.
I let out the breath I was holding and smile at her. Bracing myself to talk about my favorite subject, I ask her, “What do you want to know?”
Dinner is finished and it’s time for their first dance.
Cora and Atlas are swaying around the makeshift dance floor, lost in their own little world.
I’ve been sitting with Mila and her mom for most of the night.
Her dad opted to sit near Rhett and Mara with Noah, and I don’t know how to feel about that. At least I know her mom likes me.
“That’s so sweet that he brings you lunch, Mila. I know how hard you girls work.”
“She works very hard, Mrs. Morgan. I just want to make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Willa, Kash, we’ve been through this. Call me Willa, but you are right.
These girls are both super hard workers.
They get it from their dad. Now, how long have you been an item?
” She takes a sip from her drink, letting the question linger.
It’s innocent enough, but I don’t know how to explain it to her.
How do you tell someone’s parents you’ve been obsessed with them for months? You probably shouldn’t.
“We’re still kind of new, Mom, but Kash and I have been hanging out for a while as friends. We’re just more official now,” Mila supplies with a smile. It gives me tingles when she’s so protective of me.
Her mom lights up at that answer. “That’s good. The basis of a good relationship should be friendship. Sure, sex is nice and all, but if you can’t have sex with your best friend, what good is it going to be?”
Mila and I both choke on our drinks. I’m trying to wrap my head around what she just said while gasping for air, and Mila just scolds her. “You can’t say that! Oh my God, what is wrong with you?”
“What?” Her mom looks truly confused. “What did I say?”
When I bark out a laugh, Mila scowls at me. “It’s not funny.”
“Sure it’s not, Sunshine.” It’s fucking hilarious.
“I’m not having this discussion with you.” She blushes, while covering her face with her hands.
The first dance ends, and now Atlas and Cora invite anyone else to dance. Seeing my chance at a clean break, I take it. “Come on, Sweet Girl. Dance with me,” I request, standing to my feet and holding out my hand.
Looking once more at her mom, Mila shakes her head, muttering, “You are unbelievable.” Putting her hand into mine, Mila stands and follows me to a quiet corner of the little dance floor.
Pulling her tightly in my arms, as tight as I dare with her dad only twenty feet away, I let out the breath I feel like I’ve held since yesterday.
I have Mila in my arms, and her parents and everyone now knows about us; plus, I’m not dead.
With one of my hands clasped with Mila’s and the other across her waist, we sway along to the music.
After watching my brother marry his girl, and letting everyone see us together, it hits me how good my life is in this moment.
“I am so sorry, Kash,” Mila whispers, an embarrassed expression on her face.
“For what?”
“Be serious. My mom just gave me the ‘I hope your sex life is good’ talk, in a weird roundabout kind of way. Oh, and my dad caught us making out, so there’s that.” She shakes her head. “Are we doomed?”
Leaning down, I quickly press my lips to her temple.
It’s not the kind of kiss I want, but it’s the kind she needs.
Mila needs softness and reassurance right now.
“No, Sunshine. We aren’t doomed. We’re only starting.
We have our whole lives to have awkward conversations with your mom and get death glares from your dad when he catches me kissing you. ”
Leaning her head against my chest, she huffs out a small laugh. “If you say so, Casanova.”
“I do. I promise.”
We spin around for a little longer, and when the song ends, I glance at Mila. She seems lost in her own world. “Walk with me.”
Grabbing my jacket, I guide Mila from the main room. Everyone is so focused on the happy couple, I doubt they’ll notice if we’re gone for a few minutes.
Draping it over Mila’s shoulders, we step outside.
The air is crisp and cold, but the sky is clear and full of stars.
Sitting on the wooden porch bench, I tug her closer to me.
I hate the cold, but I know she needs a minute, and truthfully, I want her to myself, so if I have to freeze for a bit, so be it.
Staring out into the stars, it reminds me of our little date months ago, and how far we’ve come since then.
I never thought I’d be this happy, this content or complete.
I feel like such a sap, but there’s something about Mila that brings out a different side to me.
I don’t want to be anywhere but near her.
I want to know what she’s doing and thinking.
I want to be with her and hug her and kiss her.
Now that she’s finally accepted that we’re an item, I feel like I can breathe.
After a few moments of silence, she leans her head against my shoulder, glancing up at me. “Hi.”
Kissing her forehead, I return her smile. “Hi.”
“Do you want a big wedding?”
Sitting up, I give her my full attention. “I want whatever you want.”
“You can’t say things like that to me, Kash.”
Cupping her cheek with my hand, I lean closer to her lips, letting mine stop a breath away from hers. “And why not?”
“Because I’m starting to believe it.” Pressing her lips against mine, Mila closes the gap.
I cup her jaw, angling her head for a deeper kiss.
I swipe my tongue against her lips, begging for entry.
Mila doesn’t let me down. She opens and meets me halfway.
One of her hands moves to my neck, then up to my hair.
Grabbing at some of the strands, she holds me close to her. As if I would ever let go.
Kissing her lights up every nerve ending in my body. It no longer feels cold outside; my body feels hot all over. My cock is leaking in my dress pants, and I know I have to pull back soon, but I really don’t want to. I want to find a room and see how many times I can make her come before cake.
Pulling back, I nip her lip and groan when she tugs my hair one final time before removing her hand. Mila stares at me, a curious expression on her face. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it.
“What’s wrong? Are you cold? We can go in. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” I ramble and stand without letting go of her. I start toward the door, but Mila tugs on my hand, stopping me. I turn to see what’s wrong, but find her gaze trained on me.
“Don’t cut your hair again, Kash,” she begins, her eyes locked on mine. “People will love you for who you are, not what you look like. I know I do.” With that, she tugs out of my grasp and heads inside.
Staring after her, I try to process what she just said. Did Mila tell me she loves me?