The Act

•18•

I took a steadying breath as Damien pulled to a stop at a large intricately decorated metal gate. Rolling down his window, he leaned out of the SUV to punch a code into a small black box. I watched as the gate slowly swung open and Damien continued into the large circular driveway. This house, also decorated with an abundance of balconies and lush green grass, was defiantly bigger than Damien's but it didn't have the same breathtaking effect.

Coming to a stop at the front of the house, Damien turned off the car and got out. He didn't bother removing the keys from the ignition before crossing the front of the car. I gathered my dress as he opened my door.

"Avery," He started, bracing his arm against the car. His eyes searched mine as he used his body to block my path, all hints of his usual playfulness or mischievousness gone. "We don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do," I stated, instilling confidence in myself. I want him to know I'm not afraid. Not anymore. Not when I'm with him. "I want to meet your mother."

Damien's stern look was replaced with an uneasy one as he stood from his lean against the vehicle.

"Okay," He breathes, holding his hand out to me. "Let's go."

I laced my fingers through his before sliding out of the car. Closing the door behind me, Damien led me up the porch steps and rang the doorbell. A small wave of nausea washed over me at the thought of meeting Damien's mother. Damien must've sensed it, because he gave my hand a soft squeeze. I fought the urge to lean into him.

A few minutes had passed before the large intricately decorated door swung open to reveal Christian. My eyes flew to the light scar just above his eyebrow as a smirk, similar to his brother's, appeared on his face.

"Well," Christian started, amusement dancing in his eyes as he took in my dress. I cleared my throat, a small part of me wanting to hide behind Damien as Christian's eyes lingered a little too long on the deep v-cut of my dress. "Look what we've got here. It's the pretty nurse."

"We aren't here to play your games, Chris," Damien snapped, pushing passed his brother. "And it's doctor."

"Of course, it is," Christian muttered as he turned and stalked down the well-lit foyer to a pair of crystal-clear sliding glass doors. Sliding them open, Damien and I followed Christian outside and into the backyard.

I found myself glancing around in awe at the beautifully decorated area. Outdoor string lights were strung up everywhere, providing a comfortable orange glow along the patio while people talked among themselves. Waiters made their way around serving drinks and what looked like hor d'oeuvres. In the center of the patio sat a long banquette table decorated with a white tablecloth and elegant place settings. A small firepit sat to my right surrounded by outdoor futons, the wood crackling gently as a small fire burned.

"What is this?" Damien asked, his eyes roaming around the group of people casually talking to one another.

"The annual family dinner," Christian states as if it's common knowledge. "You know, the one you manage to successfully evade every year."

With that, Christian walks into the crowd smiling wide as he greets one of his family members. I look up to Damien whose jaw is clenched hard enough to shatter.

"I should've known," He states with a bitter chuckle. "She always does this. This is why she insisted—to prove some sort of point to the rest of my family."

"It's okay. It's just a family dinner," I say. "What the worst that could happen?"

Damien switches his gaze to me, irritation swirling in his golden-brown orbs. "Let's just say there's a reason I avoid them every year."

"Damien," A shrill voice calls. At the sound of his name, Damien and I train our gazes ahead to see a curvy older woman making her way over to us. "Damien Foster, it's been so long since I've seen you. Where have you been?"

"Aunt Rose," Damien states with feigned surprise. Stepping forward, he wraps his arms around the woman. "I've been...around."

"You've got to come around more often. Your mother is worried about you and you know how your mother gets when she's worried–" Her wide eyes flicker on me, curiosity taking over her features. "And who might this be?"

"Oh," Damien rests a hand at the center of my back before casually stating, "This is my girlfriend, Avery. Avery, this is my Aunt Rose."

Making sure to give my sweetest smile, I stick out my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

"This one has manners," She says to Damien, a look of surprise written on her face. "Better than the last girl you brought to meet your mother. What was her name again? Amanda?"

"Well," Damien starts, leaning down to hug his Aunt. "It was nice seeing you again, Aunt Rose."

"You too, Damien," She replies, but before Damien could let go, she whispers. "Don't screw this up. This one's a keeper."

※※※

After another half hour of socializing, I'd officially met Damien's aunts and uncles along with a few of his cousins–most of which couldn't wrap their head around the fact their youngest cousin now has a girlfriend. It wasn't until they started commenting about how work driven he is and how they never thought he'd get a girlfriend that Damien excused us.

Now, we are sitting on a hammock far from the crowd. Silence blankets us as Damien swings us gently with his foot. I take this time to rest my head on his shoulder, playing with our intertwined hands. The familiar spicy smell of his cologne fills my nose, nearly lulling me to sleep.

"So," I spoke, breaking the silence around us as I lift my head. Damien turns his attention to me. "You going to tell me about this 'Amanda' girl?"

A smile spreads across Damien's face, showing off his perfectly straight teeth as he lets out a breathy chuckle. "No."

"Why not?"

Damien shrugs. "She's not important."

"She must've been if you brought her to meet your mother." I counter. Damien stares at our intertwined hands, running his thumb over the back of mine.

"My mother...is hard to please," He starts. "Unlike Chris, since I chose to inherit the CEO position from my Dad, she's hardly ever approved of the women I bring home. That is, unless she picks them herself."

Unsure of what to say, I keep quiet. Damien's never spoken of his father or how he came to be the CEO of the hospital before. Part of me wants to question him on it, but there must be a reason he hasn't brought the subjects up before.

I watch as his dark hair sways in the light breeze, bringing goosebumps to the surface of my skin. I suddenly get an urge to run my fingers through his hair–to feel how soft it is between my fingers as I place a kiss to his lips to sweep away the sadness darkening his beautiful features.

A ringing sounds across the lawn, earning both mine and Damien's attention. With a sigh, Damien stands from the hammock, taking his body heat with him.

"It's time for dinner," He says, holding his hand out to me.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Happy Reading,
Arctic