I Hate You, Mr. Boss-Man [18+]

032

"Are we just going to sit here, or...?"

I wipe my clammy palms against my jeans, Jesse's voice almost incoherent, as I stared at the front of his parent's house—estate. Tall, immensely tall, wide enough to fill Central Park with the acres it sat upon. The rolling hills of land—covered in greenery as far as the eye could see. Maple trees stretch further, almost gating the back of the estate. "Wow," I whisper, leaning forward to get a better view from the car.

The house was completely white, with iron accents that held the frames of windows and doors, oxford blue roof, and massive marble pillars perched at the entrance. That wasn't even including the cobblestone fountain that sat in the middle of the driveway. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was the white house. "You grew up here?" I turn my head to Jesse, noticing the dread washing over his features—almost in a nervous fashion. "Jesse?" I call out, my body turning towards him. "You okay, baby?"

His eyes immediately snap to mine, small traces of solace for the simple fact that I called him baby. "Yeah..." He breathes loudly, fingers wrapped around the steering wheel tightly, his back hitting the seat behind him. "I'm just nervous," He confesses, his temple against the headrest while he looks at me. "You're the first girl I brought home in a long time."

"Oh?" I press, cocking a brow at his confession. "Who were the others?"

Jesse smiles softly, letting out a breathy laugh, letting go of the steering wheel to cup my jaw, thumb grazing my cheek then my chin. "No one that mattered enough to stay."

I pry his hand from my cheek, interlacing his fingers with mine. Don't say it. "Come on," I jerk my head towards the entrance, dropping his hand to gather his face in my palms. "Let's get this over with and when it's done...?" I lean in, my red lips hovering over his, his eyes trained on the red.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, sweetheart," Jesse murmurs, taking a grip on the lapels of my wool coat. "Not when it comes to the pleasure of being with you."

"Who said anything about promises?" I quip, leaning back just a bit to get a full view of his face. I could see that I may have riled him up with my teasing, but nothing was going to happen between us—not at his parent's house. I simper, going in for a kiss anyway, our noses brushing against one another's—our heads moving with each work of our mouths. If this went on any longer, we wouldn't make dinner. I drew away, eyes opening to make sure I hadn't stained his mouth and sure enough, I did. "Hold on," I giggle, taking my thumb, licking the pad to clean the edges of his lips. "I got some lipstick on you."

He watches me intently as I clean up the traces of my lipstick. It dawned on me that I had brought makeup wipes with me. I reach down below my feet, scooping up my purse to fish out the wipes. "I forgot I had these," I admit, pulling the tap to grab one. I fashion it into a point, continuing to clean Jesse's mouth before I move onto mine.

"I don't mind a little lipstick, sweetheart," He says, as I pull down the mirror in his car, reaching for the tube of lipstick in my bag to reapply. "Not when it's my girl's red."

I shoot him a glance, swiping on the deep crimson shade, cleaning up the edges with the same wipe. "Well, I do. I don't want your parents thinking we were doing something inappropriate before we got here."

"Oh, we were," He jokes, nodding in agreement. "We did all the dirty, inappropriate, and lustful things here in the car. We should be ashamed of ourselves."

I let out a laugh, dropping the gold tube into my bag before closing the mirror. "Oh, shut it," I push at his chest gently, looking back at the house that seemed like a mile away. "I wanna meet your family."

"Then," Jesse pulls the door handle towards him, pushing it open, as he steps out. "Let's go." Just as soon as he steps out, the sooner he pops his head back in. "I want to apologize in advance for my dear sister, Cassandra. She means only the best." And he shuts the door to his side, jogging over to mine.

"Gotcha," I whisper—Jesse opens my door, offering his hand while I plop my purse below my feet once again, taking his hand to help me out of the car before I close it behind me.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Jesse interlocks our hands, shooting me a nervous smile—the entrance thirty feet away from where we stood.

"Ready."

Jesse

My grip on her hand tightens, swallowing the lump in my throat—her heels tapping onto the stone, bringing a weird sense of relief.

Meeting the family was such a strange concept. Why would anyone want to meet the people who raised you? Then again, I never met her family. Only that uncomfortable run-in with her brother. I glance over at her, our steps edging closer to the front door. I knew her father was gone but, what about her mother?

Was she gone too? Katherine hadn't mentioned her once, and I was under the impression that maybe her mother was a difficult topic to bring up. I'd have to ask her about it someday. We stop at the entrance. Our eyes meet before I ring the doorbell, Katherine's fingers tightening as well. "Don't be nervous," I assure her, flashing her a smile. "You look beautiful."

"You're just saying that," She grumbles, letting go of my hand to lock her arm around mine. "I look like a newsboy," She gestures to the cap on her head, almost reaching to pluck it off but I stop her.

"Don't take it off," I mumble as she slowly looks at me. "I happen to like the cap."

Just before she could respond, the left door swung open, the glass detail letting me see who answered it. A man stood proudly, hands behind his back as he stepped aside to let us through. "Mr. Thomas, how wonderful to see you again." His eyes pan over to Katherine, a head nod in her direction—a strong English accent coming through. "You must be Lady Stratford."

"Sweetheart, this is William, he's been with my family for years," I explain as she goes to shake his hand, a bright smile on her lips. She could always light up a room.

"Nice to meet you, William," She greets, cupping his hand in hers, shaking it once. "I've heard only good things and please, Katherine, is just fine."

"You as well, Lady Katherine." He nods, dropping his hand. "You seem to be the talk of the evening. I don't think I've heard this much banter in quite some time."

"Oh, come on Will," I scoff, shaking my head as I took in the hesitation on Katherine's face. "You're making her more nervous than she already is."

"My apologies, Mr. Thomas," William bows his head once, outstretching his hands. "May I take your coats?" Katherine is the first to shrug it off, folding it neatly before she gently passes it off to William, I soon follow, handing off my coat. William stays put for just a second, his hand still outstretched, as he gestures to the newsboy cap on top of Katherine's head.

"Oh!" She exclaims, shyly reaching for the cap to give it to William. "Sorry," She smiles sheepishly, smoothing out the top of her hair. I could hear the clinking of glasses, chatter, and the distinct sound of children running. I look over at her as soon as William retreats. Her fingers fiddled with each other once she set them down. A sign of her nerves, suddenly clinging to me—interlocking our arms, her eyes flickering to mine.

The greenest eyes I'd ever seen, dispersed with small traces of gold flakes—a kaleidoscope I seemed to lose myself in. I untangle our arms, facing her to cup her jaw in my palms. I lean in, pressing a light peck on her forehead. "You have nothing to worry about, baby," I pull away, feeling the rate of her pulse underneath the pads of my pinkies, like the fastest drum solo in a song.

"They're going to love you."

I know I do.