Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
the parents
CHEYENNE
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Iver asks for what feels like the tenth time since we woke up together in his bed.
“I’m sure,” I answer, just as I have every other time he’s asked.
If he wasn’t always so attentive to my needs, I’d suspect that he’s more nervous about this breakfast with his family than I am.
Impossible, since I’m so damn nervous right now that the legs of my jeans are damp from how many times I’ve wiped my sweaty palms against them.
He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Ready to head over there, then?”
“Uh huh,” I breathe, pushing up from my stool at the kitchen island and smoothing my hair.
Iver grins as I step toward him, holding out a hand for me to take. And as embarrassing and not cute as it is to hold hands when my own are so damn clammy, I grab on like it’s a lifeline, relying on my mate’s touch to anchor me as we start for the front door of the packhouse.
I’m totally out of my depth here. I have no barometer for how to act around Iver’s parents– I barely remember my own, and I’ve never had to meet anyone else’s before.
Hopefully they don’t base everything off first impressions, because nothing says ‘hey, I’m sleeping with your son’ quite like doing the walk of shame to their house across the street for our morning coffee.
Why did I agree to breakfast, again? We could’ve easily done lunch or dinner.
Then again, breakfast seemed like the lowest-pressure meal to share, since it’s the least formal option of the three and has a definitive end.
There’s no lingering around when people have jobs and training to get to. It’s no frills, no fuss.
If only it was also no stress.
The chirp of the morning birds greets us as we step outside, Iver leading the way down the front walk and across the street.
I’ve technically been to his parents’ house before.
Never inside, but we sat on the porch together the night of the full moon, after our fated bond snapped in.
Looking at it now, the memory makes me smile.
I was so overwhelmed that night that I didn’t even realize what was sitting right in front of me.
The perfect man.
A whole new reason for living.
I shoot Iver a side-eyed glance, and if the goofy grin on his face is anything to go by, I’d say the sight of his parents’ porch conjured up the same memory for him.
Our eyes lock, a silent conversation passing between us as we approach the front steps, his hand tightening around mine when we start to ascend them.
Before we can even get to the front door, it swings wide, pulled open by a hazel-eyed brunette who I can only assume is Iver’s mom.
Shit, she’s beautiful.
“Good morning!” she sing-songs, beaming a smile at Iver before shifting her gaze to me. “You must be Cheyenne, I’ve been dying to meet you!”
“Likewise, Mrs. Anderson,” I reply bashfully, though unless she’s an anxious wreck like me, I’m betting we mean that in different ways.
“Please, call me Quinn,” she tuts as she steps aside and waves a hand. “Come in, come in!”
A flush crawls up my neck as Iver tugs on my hand to lead me over the threshold, my stomach twisting into knots as his mom ushers us toward the kitchen.
The interior of their home is an open-concept floorplan, light and airy with tasteful décor and cozy furnishings.
It’s undeniably warm and inviting, but the atmosphere itself does little to calm my frayed nerves.
This is Iver’s family; the people he’s closest with.
He may accept me exactly as I am, but that doesn’t mean they will, too. And if they don’t…
Oh fuck, what if they don’t?
“There they are!” a male voice booms, and I snap my head up to see an older version of Iver standing at the kitchen island, grinning in our direction.
I falter a step, breath catching. The handsome blonde I’m looking at is clearly Iver’s father, and if my mate ages anything like his old man…
Yeah, I’m the luckiest.
“About time our son introduced us to his mate,” he muses, smirking as he darts Iver a glance. “It’s like he’s afraid we’ll embarrass him or something.”
“Us?” Quinn gasps, clutching a hand to her chest, mouth dropping open. “We’re the coolest parents ever.”
“Right?” he scoffs, swinging his gaze back on me. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Cheyenne. Welcome to the family.”
My stomach swoops.
This has to be some sort of trap, right?
It can’t be this easy to just… join Iver’s family.
The concept of family is admittedly foreign to me since I grew up without one, but every TV show I’ve watched has taught me that meeting the parents means being subjected to their judgment and scrutiny.
I was expecting a barrage of probing questions, not instant acceptance.
Maybe they just trust fate, as I’ve learned to.
“It’s nice meeting you too, Mr. Anderson,” I say shyly, a blush heating my cheeks.
“Call me Jax,” he winks.
Yes, Sir.
Iver tugs on my hand, starting toward the kitchen table, and I follow his lead, pretending that I wasn’t just perving on his dad. It’s not weird if he’s practically a clone of my mate, right?
The table is already set, platters of food resting in the center and giving off the most delicious smells. Iver pulls out a chair for me like a perfect gentleman, then takes the one next to me, carding his fingers through his hair as he leans in.
“See, told you they’re not intimidating,” he murmurs in a low voice, bumping his shoulder into mine.
“Not at all,” I agree, the sarcasm thick in my tone.
Iver’s parents seem to be just as annoyingly perfect as my mate himself. Quinn is graceful and poised; Jax is charming and gregarious. The apple definitely didn’t fall too far from the tree, and I’m in a whole different orchard.
Nah, I’m not even in an orchard, I’m just a rogue seed that sprouted somewhere worlds away.
“Are you a coffee drinker, Cheyenne?” Jax calls to me while pouring himself a fresh cup.
I will myself not to blush as I turn his way again. “Most people call me Chey, and yes, please.”
He nods back at me, reaching up to fish another mug out of the cabinet above the coffee pot.
“I hope you’re hungry, Chey,” Quinn says as she comes over to take a seat at the table across from me and Iver.
“I am, and this all looks amazing,” I breathe, eyeing the spread appreciatively.
“Well don’t be shy, dig in!” Jax prompts as he makes his way over with coffee cups in hand.
Iver picks up the platter of eggs in front of him, spooning some onto his plate before passing it over to me. Jax slides one of the coffee mugs my way as he takes a seat beside Quinn, and the four of us go about filling our plates, chatting casually as we pass the food around the table.
“So, you’re a friend of Javi’s?” Quinn asks as she drizzles syrup over a waffle.
I nod, swallowing down a sip of my coffee. “Best friends. Javi’s like the brother I never had.”
Her lips curve into a grin. “We just love him,” she gushes, setting the syrup back down on the table. “He makes Lo so happy.”
“Where is she, anyways?” Iver questions as he glances toward the door, brows knitting together. “I could’ve sworn she said she and Javi were coming for breakfast.”
“They’re just running late, something came up with their pack,” Jax supplies.
My brows shoot up. I belong to their pack, and I’m not aware of any pressing matters– but then again, I haven’t been spending much time with my own pack lately.
Come to think of it, I’ve barely even talked to Javi in days.
When I’m not at the squad complex for training, I’m with Iver, whether we’re hiking in the forest with my camera or curled up on the sofa in his packhouse watching TV.
It’s a little jarring to realize just how quickly everything about my life has changed.
“I hope everything’s okay,” I murmur, worrying my lower lip between my teeth.
“Sounded like it was just a squabble between a couple of young guys, I’m sure it’s no big deal,” Jax replies with a reassuring grin.
Damnit if it isn’t the exact same as his son’s.
Footsteps sound from the hall, a dark-haired teenager striding into the kitchen and approaching the opposite side of the table.
“Nice of you to join us,” Quinn admonishes as he circles around to slide into the seat next to her.
“Chey, this is my brother, Tanner,” Iver provides, nodding in his direction.
“Sup,” Tanner murmurs with a lift of his chin.
Quinn elbows him, making a scoffing sound in her throat. “Is that any way to greet your brother’s mate?”
Tanner’s hazel eyes pop wide, mouth falling open. “Whoa, you’re mates?” he gasps sarcastically. “No way!”
Iver rolls his eyes, flicking a grape in his direction.
“Hey, no throwing food!” Quinn scolds, turning that same harsh look she gave Tanner on her other son.
“Sorry,” Iver chuckles, batting the grape out of the air as his brother sends it sailing back his way.
Quinn’s head snaps back around to Tanner. “Boys!”
He lifts his hands in surrender, he and Iver sharing a conspiratorial smirk.
Quinn heaves an exasperated sigh, scrubbing a hand down her face.
“Boys, listen to your mother,” Jax orders, giving each of them a stern look, even as the ghost of a smile touches his lips.
I can’t help but crack one of my own, glancing between my mate and his brother. Even though their coloring is completely different– Tanner favoring his mom, Iver favoring his dad– their features are strikingly similar. And their dynamic reminds me of why I always wished for siblings.
Honestly, Iver’s entire family reminds me of what I always imagined life would be like if things were different; if I grew up surrounded by love and stability.
I don’t doubt that my parents loved me, but they were gone far too soon, and my memories of them get hazier with every passing year.
This is exactly what I always wanted. What I thought I’d never have.
“Well, now you’ve met everyone but Harper,” Iver says, turning to me. “She’s away at school in Denver, but she’ll be back for the full moon run.”
“And she’s just dying to meet you,” Quinn adds with a smile. “Ever since she heard Iver found his mate, it’s all she can talk about.”
“Well, if she’s anything like Lo, I’m sure she’s great,” I reply, picking up my fork.
Jax and Quinn exchange a look of amusement.
“She’s nothing like Lo, but I’m sure you’ll still hit it off,” Iver remarks, winking.
“Harper will make sure of it,” Jax smirks.
“She’s aggressively friendly,” Iver tacks on.
“Can’t wait,” I chuckle.
The conversation continues to flow as we dig into our food, Jax and Quinn regaling me with stories about Iver when he was young and asking me questions about my own upbringing.
They’re not judgmental about the fact that I’m an orphan from a nomadic pack, nor do they seem put off by anything else I have to say.
They’re warm and friendly, even going so far as to compliment my new tattoo.
Tanner doesn’t have a whole lot to say, eyes focused on his phone screen as he inhales his food, but I chalk it up to typical teenage boy behavior rather than my presence.
Javi and Lo finally arrive halfway through the meal, and the last of my nerves melt away as we all fall into easy banter around the breakfast table.
It’s so much better than I ever expected.
I’ve never had a sense of belonging like this; an actual family to be a part of.
Javi and I exchange a look as we all get up to leave, and no words need to be exchanged for me to know exactly what he’s saying.
This is what he always wanted, too, and now we both have it. How freaking lucky are we?
“Will you two be at family dinner on Sunday?” Quinn asks as she and Jax walk us toward the front door.
Iver looks over at me, arching a brow in question.
I turn to his mom, smiling so hard that it makes my cheeks hurt as I reply, “Wouldn’t miss it.”