“Yes, it would have been stocked. You don’t need to cook, we can eat out.”

“We can be seen together here?” I frown in surprise.

“This is New York, I have a lot more privacy here through the day.”

“How come?”

“There are much more exciting celebrities for the paparazzi to chase. Nighttime is a different story, but daylight is good. London is like a fishbowl with nowhere to hide.”

“Oh.” I walk toward the door. “I’m going to make you the best damn breakfast you ever did see.”

He jumps up, fully naked, and picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist. His lips take mine and he opens the bedroom door. “But first.” He walks out of the bedroom as he holds me up. “I am going to fuck you on every hard surface of this apartment.”

I giggle as we kiss.

We hear a woman’s gasp. “Elliot.”

We turn to see Jameson, Tristan, Christopher, and Mr. and Mrs. Miles just standing there. Mrs. Miles has a Happy Birthday balloon in her hand, and her eyes are wide.

“Mom,” Elliot gasps.

Everyone’s mouth is open in horror.

“Surprise.” Jameson smirks as he raises an eyebrow.

Oh fuck. The blood drains from my face.

Tristan throws back his head and laughs hard.

My worst nightmare just came true.

Chapter 21

Elliot runs into the bedroom and slams the door.

I stare at his family in horror.

Christopher’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Kathryn Landon,” he whispers in shock.

The bedroom door opens back up in a rush, and Elliot grabs my arm and drags me in and slams the door behind us.

I put my hands over my eyes. “No, no, no, no,” I whisper. “That did not happen. Tell me that didn’t happen.”

Elliot is pacing, his hands are in his hair. “Tristan is a fucking dead man,” he fumes.

I slap him with both hands on the chest like a drum as I lose control and spiral into a panic. “Oh my God, Elliot. They’ll think I’m a ho. They’ll think I’m a ho.”

“You think you’ve got fucking problems,” he whispers angrily as he points to his dick: it looks hard and angry. “Not exactly what I want to show my mother before breakfast, Kathryn.”

“Elliot,” Tristan calls through the door.

“Prepare to die, fucker,” Elliot hisses.

“Should . . . we go?”

“Yes. No. I want Mom and Dad to meet Kate,” he calls.

I put my head in my hands. “They already met me, being a fucking whore bag,” I whisper in despair.

Elliot’s eyes widen. “Just a minute,” he calls loudly. “Get dressed,” he whispers as he marches into the closet.

I run after him like a child. “What will I say to them?”

He stares at me as if completely lost for words and then shrugs. “That you like my dick.”

The situation overwhelms me and I put my hands over my mouth and burst out laughing. “Will you be serious?” I whisper.

“Listen, I don’t know what you should say.” He digs around in my suitcase. “I’ve got my own worries. I just showed my mother my hairy helmet.”

I laugh hard, trying to keep quiet. “What the hell is a hairy helmet?”

“A colossal troublemaker.” He throws a dress at me. “Get. Fucking. Dressed.”

Elliot pulls up his jeans commando-style and throws a T-shirt over his head. He looks down at his crotch. “Now you decide to go down, after you’ve already ruined my fucking life,” he whispers angrily.

I smile as I throw my dress over my shoulders and pull it down, run into the bathroom and smooth out my dress and quickly wash my face.

Elliot goes to the door and holds his hand out for me. “Come.”

I close my eyes, dread filling my every cell.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.”

My eyes search his. “Is it really fine?”

“Not in the least, it’s abysmal.” He opens the door and pulls me out of the bedroom. We find his family all sitting in the living room.

Christopher, Jameson, and Tristan are all wearing goofy grins, as if this is the best thing to ever happen. His mum and dad are pensive and on the other couch.

“Mom and Dad.” Elliot holds his hand out. “This is Kathryn. Kathryn, this is Elizabeth and George, my parents.”

His mother fakes a smile and stands. “Lovely to meet you.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I shake her hand. “To meet you like this is my worst nightmare.”

George stands. “Could have been worse, dear, you could have been on one of those hard surfaces.”

The boys all burst out laughing, and my cheeks heat with a blazing fire. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

“That’s impossible. I’m a virgin, Dad,” Elliot mutters as he kisses his mother’s cheek. “Sorry, Mom.”

She smiles adoringly up at her son. “That’s okay, dear, sorry to interrupt.”

She turns her attention back to me. “So . . . Kathryn.”

“Kate,” Elliot corrects her.

My heart hammers so hard in my chest that I can hear it in my ears.

“Kathryn—you work for us, don’t you?” George asks.

“Yes sir.” I cringe. Kill me now.

“She’s the head of IT in London.” Elliot smiles proudly. “Damn good at her job, too.”

Elizabeth smiles softly as she stares at me. I can feel her gaze as she assesses every inch.

“Who wants coffee?” Tristan stands.

“Me,” I answer way too fast.

“Me, yes please. Yes, me too,” they all answer.

Tristan looks at Jameson and Christopher. “Come help,” he says. The boys both stand and Tristan knocks twice on the table as he walks past it. “Now, that is a hard surface.”

Jameson chuckles as he walks past a cabinet and knocks twice on it too. “Rock hard,” he says. They disappear into the kitchen and we hear another two loud knocks on the wall.

“Found another one,” Christopher calls.

Elliot pinches the bridge of his nose and George smiles. “Don’t mind them, dear, small things amuse small minds.” He walks in after them.

“So, this is the girl you brought home for me to meet?” Elizabeth says.

“This is her, Mom,” Elliot replies.

Nerves simmer.

“Don’t mind this morning, my dear, I’m well equipped. I have brought up four very unruly boys, you must remember.”