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Leaning toward me to show the shock on his face, I chuckle under my glass, rolling my eyes at his dramatics.
“Commitment? Who are you, and what have you done with my little brother?”
“Watch it,” I warn.
“Seriously, you’re really a new man, aren’t you?”
I shrug, swallowing roughly. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You would’ve never even contemplated commitment a couple of years ago.”
No, I wouldn’t have, but I also thought just a few years ago, my manwhore ways were simply learned behaviors. I hadn’t wanted to change them. Now that I know the truth, I worry that I can’t ever part with that side of me, and I’d never be able to live with myself if I hurt Fia.
“You’re still a Parker, Jett.” Ivan fishes for my insecurities and debunks them like he always has.
“He wants to see me again,” I tell him, needing some guidance because my head is all over the fucking place.
Since finding out he was my father, Mr. Holland has reached out several times.
I’ve ignored him.
I don’t know what he expects. A relationship? For me to call him dad when I already have one. What’s the point?
“Maybe meeting him on your own would be good for you. Hear him out without the rest of us and form your own opinion,” Ivan says optimistically.
“I’ll think about it.”
The rest of the night passes in a blur. After my talk with Ivan, I couldn’t be present at Duke’s. All I could think about was getting home with Fia. Our home.
When we finally make it back to my house, I can’t stop myself from taking her the second we walk through the door.
“Jett, please,” she whines as my lips kiss down her neck, pulling apart every inch of her clothing.
“I’ve got to taste you.”
Hoisting her up onto the kitchen counter, her legs spread so beautifully without my asking. She’s perfect here. On my counter, in my home, in my heart.
Fia looks like a feast, and I do the only appropriate thing when a spread is on your counter—I devour her.
My tongue laps at her entrance, moaning at the taste of her sweetness.
Nothing I’ve ever cooked could compare to the decadent flavor of Sofia Chandler. I rile her up, playing with her clit while plunging my tongue in and out of her soaking center.
“I’m going to come,” she pants quickly, tightening on my tongue.
Goddamn, this is heaven.
“Yeah, Sofia baby, come all over my mouth.”
In a loud scream, she rides the wave of release, and I steal every last taste before wrapping her in my arms and carrying her to my bed.
When we finally make it to bed, we settle in together, my lips still tasting like her. Her head finds its place on my chest and our breathing syncs.
With droopy eyes and clear minds, the comfort in the silence between us feels everlasting.
“I’m so excited to see her! Ahhhh!” Sienna squeals as we all cram into the back of Duke’s Escalade. His driver, Raul, is already geared and ready to drive the hour-and-a-half commute to Blaze Arena.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been excited for a pop concert, but I guess there’s a first for everything,” Duke replies as if Ivan and me aren’t even in the room.
