"Please, no one is going to be looking at me." She fixes her lipstick in the mirror and turns so she can get a good look at my attire. "You look like a young James Bond. That suit fits you well. Looks tight in the crotch, though."
"Thanks for noticing. Didn't realize you look at my dick as often as you do."
"It's kinda hard when…"
"Oh my goodness, Amelia." My mom invites herself into the bathroom and looks her up and down. I'm glad she doesn't do the same to me because she'd notice a bulge in my pants.
"Look at you two, wow." Bruce joins us, and boy does it feel awkward in this small space.
This isn't prom.
"You're so sweet to be going with Theo," my mom adds.
If she knew under what capacity, would she still be so gracious?
"We better get going," I tell everyone.
"Will you guys be out late?" Bruce asks.
"Not sure, but we'll be good. Don't worry about us," Amelia assures him.
"I won't even drink that much since I'll be driving the Mustang," I say to Amelia and avoid Bruce’s question.
"Okay, have fun you two." My mom waves us goodbye.
When we're both in the car, and the doors slam shut, Amelia says, "We never discussed the physical stuff."
"Physical stuff?"
"Yeah, hand-holding is an obvious yes. Hugging, yes. I doubt we'll have to kiss. It's not like your friends are still immature fuckwads and demand we prove our relationship to them."
"I don't know, they might not believe it. We better put on a good show."
"I'm not kissing you," she insists, but with a hint of hypocrisy. I've tasted her pussy twice now and even though she's yet to see what my cock feels like, we're definitely past pleasantries.
"I'm not expecting you to kiss me. But I'm hoping you can pretend to like being around me for one night."
Even though we've already crossed so many lines, surely we can drop our swords and get along. We've been doing well these past couple of days.
When I start the Mustang, she jumps.
The way her chest heaves from the excitement makes me want to skip the reunion altogether and take her on a proper date.
"Going to back out?" she asks.
"No, are you?"
"I mean out of the garage. We're just sitting here. Does the engine need to warm up or something?"
"Oh, no. We're good."
I exit the garage and the aroma of old car fumes lingers in the air even though our windows are up. It's the characteristic smell of gasoline and cracked leather that makes this car so unique.
When we're nearing the freeway on-ramp, I look over to Amelia. "You okay?"
"Was this dress a mistake? I bought it during a buzzed trip to the mall and maybe it's too much?"
"You look great. Honestly. I'm not just saying that. You look hot, in fact."
