Page 59 of Tasting Innocence
Chapter Twenty-Three
It’sthree-thirty in the morning when I get back to my house. Dex chose to follow me, so after we both park in the driveway, I lean against the door of my car and he stands in front of me, holding my hands.
“I’m sorry it happened this way,” he says.
“I don’t know why he was being such a douche. I figured he’d be upset, but he was downright mean about it.”
“He was drunk,” he says, giving Renzo an excuse he doesn’t deserve.
“He knew what he was saying.” I sigh and meet Dex’s gaze. “What are we gonna do?”
Dex inhales deeply, his shoulders dropping as he blows it out. “I think we give him some time to process, and then try to talk to him again.”
“I don’t even want to talk to him.”
He rubs my upper arms before bringing me closer and tucking my head under his chin. “I know, but we have to.”
After a couple more minutes of standing outside, the front door opens and my mom appears, wearing her soft pink robe.
“Violet? You okay, honey?”
Me and Dex pull apart and face the door.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Dex?” Mom questions.
“Hi, Mrs. H. I was just making sure she got home okay.”
“What happened?” she asks.
“Nothing, Mom. I’m fine.” I turn and face Dex. “I guess I should go inside.”
“Okay.”
He turns back to my mom and raises a hand to wave goodbye. “Night, Mrs. H.”
“Goodnight, Dex. Please be careful driving home, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We share a smile before I walk away and head toward my mom who watches me with curious eyes. Inside, I put my wallet down and kick off my shoes before heading to the kitchen for a snack and some water.
“What’s going on?” Mom questions, following me.
With a sigh, I pull a water bottle out of the fridge and then a small bag of chips from the pantry. “Me and Zo kinda got into a fight.”
Mom perches up onto a stool and folds her arms on the counter, piercing me with her hazel gaze. The wrinkles around her eyes and between her brows deepen as she waits for me to continue.
She’s older than most of my friends’ moms—already sixty-four, but she’s still as fiery as a young woman. We have our issues, as most teenage girls and their moms do, but she’s still one of my best friends.
My parents adopted me and Zo well into their forties, and while they provided for us financially, they did work quite a bit. Dad was a surgeon and Mom a pediatrician, but they made sure to be available to us whenever they could. However, it left me and Zo together a lot. Yes, we had nannies, but me and Zo were the best of friends when we were growing up. We always have fights, but they never last long. However, I think this one is going to be different.
“What on earth could you two be fighting about?”
“Your son is quite an asshole sometimes,” I say, popping a chip into my mouth after.
She purses her lips like she wants to scold me, but I see them twitch, like she’s fighting off a smile. “And you’re always perfect?” she quips, arching a brow.