Blitz: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Blast Brothers Book 3), стр. 29

My mom was a real stickler about such things. It was one of the many things I loved about her. She wasn't afraid to say she was sorry, even to people she didn't particularly like.

I could only imagine what she'd said to Ginger.

Earlier, on the phone, she'd given me only the highlights. But if I knew my mom, things had gotten a little feisty.

And of course, my mom wasn't the only one who needed to apologize. But in my case, the person who deserved an apology was actually worth it.

I looked to my mom and said, "I really am sorry. I didn't realize anyone else knew – about the bank, I mean."

"It shouldn't matter," my mom said. "You should have told me regardless." She and my dad shared a look. "You should have told all of us."

She was probably right. But didn't she get it? I'd wanted to deliver a solution, not more problems. Heaven knows the festival had enough of those already.

And now, I wanted to celebrate, not focus on the bad stuff. "I know. But now we have Blast Tools. And they'll be a perfect sponsor." I summoned up another smile. "Come on. This is good news. And I literally just found out."

My parents shared another look, but said nothing.

I tried again, this time with more pep. "And I heard it from Chase Blastoviak himself."

My dad frowned. "Wait a minute. You don't mean the guy from Blast? He was the guy who drove you home?"

I nodded. "Yup, that was him, alright." Maybe I should've mentioned it sooner, but I'd been so excited about the sponsorship itself, I hadn't thought to tell them who specifically had given me the good news.

Too late, it struck me that my parents might have wanted to meet him. I mean, it wasn't every day a celebrity showed up on their doorstep – or in this case, in their driveway.

My dad was still frowning. "He didn’t put the moves on you, did he?"

I blinked. "Chase? No. Of course not." I didn't bother explaining why.

Apparently, Chase found me repugnant, so repugnant that he'd rejected me outright the first time we'd met, even in spite of the fact that I'd never offered.

How humiliating was that?

In cheerier news, I didn't want him putting the moves on me.

Oh sure, he looked pretty, and he could be surprisingly charming when he wasn't being a jackass. But pretty bad boys had never been my thing.

And besides, I had no interest in a social disease, festering or otherwise. If the rumors were true, the guy really did get around.

Looking more disgruntled than ever, my dad said, "Chase. That's what you're calling him?"

I hesitated. "Well, it is his name."

"So you're on a first-name basis, huh?" He said this like it was a bad thing.

"Actually," I replied, "I'm not quite sure."

"Why not?"

I tried to think. "Well…I guess it's because I haven't addressed him by any name." It was true. And there was a reason for this. Chase had done nothing to indicate we were on a first-name basis. And yet, calling him "Mister Blastoviak" felt just a little bit silly.

My dad said, "Oh yeah? And what does he call you?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I mean, he hasn't said my name either."

My dad stared toward the driveway, as if he had X-ray vision, and wasn't liking what he saw. "Well, if he calls you sweet-cheeks or anything like that, you get the hell outta there."

Sweet-cheeks? I couldn’t help but laugh. "Out of where?"

"Wherever," he said. "The guy's trouble. You be careful."

I knew what he meant. Chase did have a certain playboy reputation. But to be fair, I had no way of knowing whether Chase did the pursuing or was merely happy to say yes to whatever offers came his way – unless, apparently, the offers came from me.

The reminder wasn't a jolly one. Not only had he assumed that I wanted to have sex with him, he'd also turned me down.

It wasn't merely insulting. It was doubly insulting.

But my parents didn't need to know any of this, just like they didn't need to know that Chase had gotten me fired.

I loved my family more than anything in this world. We were the kind of family that stuck together no matter what. And for this, I was eternally grateful.

Still, there was a downside. If they knew how awful Chase had acted, especially in the beginning, they would almost certainly hate him.

They wouldn't even care about the festival – or the fact that Chase was a rich celebrity, or that his TV show was a personal favorite in their own house.

They'd totally despise him. And they wouldn't bother to hide it either.

Cripes, my dad seemed to hate him already.

As for my mom, she was looking more exasperated with every passing moment. With a sound of irritation, she said, "Bob."

My dad turned to look. "Yeah?"

"She's twenty-five, not fifteen."

I smiled. That's exactly what I'd been thinking. My mom and I really were a lot alike. And the way I saw it, this wasn't a bad thing.

My dad practically snorted, "So what? The guy's a jackass."

No kidding.

Still, I had to point out the obvious. "But I thought he was your favorite character."

"Sure," my dad said. "On the TV. Not in my daughter's pants."

"Bob!"

Again, my dad turned to look. "Yeah?"

My mom sighed. "You're embarrassing her."

Yup. He sure was.

At least my mom was acting rational.

But then, she gave me a good, long look even as she supposedly spoke to my dad. "Our daughter is very smart. I'm sure if they do get…intimate… she will use plenty of protection."

Oh, God.

Plenty of protection?

As if one condom wouldn’t be enough?

I sighed. I really did need my own place.

In the living room, my mom was still giving me that look. "Right?"

"Uh…" Gosh, where to begin? "Honestly, you don't need to worry. Our relationship is all business."

My dad leaned forward. "He didn't try to kiss you, did he?"

Oh, for crying out loud. "No."

He gave me the squinty-eye. "You sure?"

"Of