Page 65 of Her Filthy Grump

“No, I’m great.” I walk into his arms being careful to not spill my drink. I’m not holding it against him that I’ve fallen in love.

What will I do when he’s gone? My stomach heaves. Let. It. Go.

As he trails a finger along my jaw, I tip my chin up and slap a smile on my face. I can do this and pretend everything’s fine. I’ve done it a million times. It’s what humans do. Put on a brave face and lie to the world.

‘How’re you doing?’ ‘Fine. Thank you. How’re you?’ Such a pointless exchange. No one wants to know how you are, and everyone’s terrified of spewing the truth.

I step back and take a sip of my wine, letting the liquid seep down my throat. It’s like a drug numbing all my emotions. Maybe if I understand his past better, it’ll be easier to accept his unwillingness to commit. “What were your parents like?”

His eyes darken as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I don’t talk about my mom.”

I cock an eyebrow. “I see.” That’s all the answer I need. I can have his body, but not his heart and soul. “My parents were great. As an only child, we did everything together. They worked hard to provide for me. We didn’t have a lot. My dad worked construction until he started at the fire station, and my mom worked as a receptionist for a doctor.”

Why the hell am I rambling? To prove that I’m better than him? That I’m an open book? Fuck. I’m a catty bitch.

His entire body is tight as his jaw twitches. “Sounds nice.”

“It was. We never went on vacations, though. My dad hated to travel. My mom and I always wanted to, but I guess being stuck in California wasn’t the end of the world.” I lean against the windowpane as my mind drifts off to my childhood.

Swinging in the backyard. Singing in the bright sunshine. Dancing in the rain. But I was always alone. I sigh, “It must have been awesome to have siblings.”

“My mom was a drunk. She and my dad met at a bar where they screwed in the men’s bathroom, and I was conceived. They got married because she was pregnant.” His nostrils flare, and the muscles in his neck are so tight I’m afraid his carotid artery is going to explode.

“Kameron.” I step forward as the couple closest to us whispers and moves away.

His eyes flash, and he shakes his head. “Don’t. You wanted to know. I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.” My bottom lip quivers.

“I spent most of my life questioning whether I was my father’s child or whether my siblings were my full-blooded relatives. It’s kind of hard not to when she disappeared for weeks at a time.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, months at a time, and then hopped back into dad’s life like nothing happened. My dad welcomed every one of her kids, whether they were his or not.”

“I’m sorry.” I touch his forearm, but he yanks backward, leaving my hand to fall to my side.

“When I was twelve, she left and never came back. Since my dad was working twelve-hour shifts and rarely had a day off, I was left to make sure my siblings got to school and ate food. If it weren’t for Ms. Connelly, we would have never had clothes. It was something my dad was too fucking exhausted to think about.”

The world he painted tore through my gut. I can’t imagine not having a two-parent household or my parent’s undivided attention.

He pulls his hands out of his pockets and scrubs them over his face. The anguish in his eyes destroys me, making it hard to breathe. He doesn’t want my sympathy. He’s not even willing to see my empathy. “It was better after she was gone. Except my dad met another woman at the bar who looked exactly like my mom. He married her after knowing her for a week.”

“Shit.” My mouth drops open. People have obviously experienced worse childhoods, but me spouting off about my perfect life had to be a slap in the face.

“They split up after a couple of months.” He shakes his head in apparent disgust. “After that, he had the decency to keep his dick in his pants or keep that part of his life private.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat. The heaviness of the conversation is stifling. I need a drink, but I can’t find the strength to lift my arm. “Are you close to any of your family?”

“I’m close to all my siblings. After the second woman ran off, I realized no one else would protect them from the shitshow in our life.” His shoulders sag. “I love my dad. He did the best he could, and after he stopped dating, things were good. He was around the house more. Helped with the younger kids. He hired Ms. Connelly to clean and cook for us. It made things a hell of a lot easier on me, but by then, I was fifteen and working three jobs.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything. It is what it is.” He rolls his head in a tight circle, and a loud popping sound shoots through the quiet around us.

I did live a privileged life. We weren’t rich by any means, but life was good and comfortable. Who would I have been if I were in Kameron’s shoes? Would I be happy-go-lucky or full of doom and gloom? Expecting him to see the good in life is stupid.

“Let’s go.” He swivels on his heel and weaves through the tables.

I toss back the rest of my wine and set the glass on the white tablecloth with a thud.

Smooth move, Layla. Way to ruin an evening.