“Good call.” Dear God, I can only pray his father is wearing far more than just a pair of boxers.
A kind-looking man with an open face and traces of Lawson in his eyes, opens the door and lets us in. Lawson and he hug it out just as an older woman walks in with a robe and slippers.
“Dad, Lynette”—Lawson offers her a brief hug, too, and something about this family love-fest makes me wish Jet and I had this kind of familial affection growing up—“this is my good friend, Lucky.”
“Lucky!” His stepmother’s eyes light up as if I had suddenly morphed into a pot of gold, and I give a little laugh at her enthusiasm. I’m used to people having unique reactions to my name. Growing up, my peers were brutal at times, but I’ve never really let that bother me. But it’s reactions like hers that make me feel special in some strange way.
“So, what’s on the board this evening?” Lawson’s father pulls up his pants by the belt loops.
Lawson lands his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a moment, and that small physical brush with his body makes my insides spark to life.
“I thought we’d head up and watch a couple of movies. Just something to pass the time.”
My stomach clenches when he says that.Just something to pass the time.It sounds so dismal, so very not special. The thought deflates me. It’s clear I’ve let all of the heart-shaped hype get to me. I’m certainly not looking for anything romantic with Lawson and his little prince. I’m just here to watch movies, aren’t I?
“Ah-ha!” His stepmother claps her hands. “Netflix and chill!” She gives a knowing nod, and it’s all I can do to keep from bursting with laughter. Oh my dear God. I glance to Lawson who gives a wild eyes shrug my way. “That’s exactly what we’re going to be doing downstairs, too!” she sings with what sounds like a touch of naughty excitement.
His father gives a straight-faced nod. “It’s nice to see you hooking up with new people, son.” He looks to his other half and winks. “Two can play at the millennial lingo game.”
They share a laugh as she links her arm with her husband’s. “Have good time, you two!”
They start to walk away, and his father backtracks. “Don’t forget to raid the fridge! Nothing gets my appetite worked up like chilling with Netflix and hooking up with my main squeeze!”
“You bet.” Lawson closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Welcome to the geriatric jungle, Lucky. My family is completely insane. I hope you don’t hate them. They mean well.”
“Are you kidding?” I swallow down a laugh. “Ilovethem. I’d give anything to have that kind of entertainment in my life. It’s priceless if you ask me.”
Lawson offers a brief tour of the expansive downstairs as we comply with his father’s orders and raid the fridge before taking our organic veggie, cholesterol-free cookie haul upstairs. Lawson’s room is down the hall and to the back, and for the life of me I can’t comprehend living in a house this big even if that good time has already ended for Lawson himself. The first thing about his room that catches my eye is the horseshoe hanging over his doorframe.
“Is that for luck?” It begged the question.
“My mom put that up when I was a kid.” His face compresses with something just this side of sadness. “I had a tough year. Chubby kid who got picked on and left alone. My dad signed me up for summer basketball camp, and I never looked back.”
“Sounds like you’ve been getting lucky ever since.” A part of me wishes not all of the girls would notice this new and improved version of Lawson, and I’m not entirely sure why.
He opens the door to a rather tidy, behemoth room. A double bed sits in the center with a full-blown sofa off to the right and a large screen TV up on the opposing wall.
“Okay, you win. This is way better than watching old rom-coms on my laptop.”
“Old rom-coms? Sounds brutal.” He turns on the TV, and we settle on the couch. “How about horror?”
“I don’t do horror.” I bounce my knee to his. “Except for the real-life version whenever you’re around.”
“I’d ask if a comedy was okay, but who needs artificial laughs when I’ve got a comedian on my hands?” He presses his leg to mine and keeps it there.
A missile precision heat ignites in that very spot and travels all along the length of my body, spreading throughout my chest like a brush fire.
“What does that leave us with?” My voice comes out parched, unexpectedly low and gravely, as if I were trying to seduce him.
“Mystery, drama, romance.”
“Sounds like my life story.” I’m only half-teasing. The first two were spot-on, anyway.
“You wish.” A dark laugh rumbles through his chest. “I haven’t seen you serial dating a single guy on campus.” He saysserial datingin air quotes because those happened to be the very words I used to describe the journey I was about to embark on. “And don’t give me that they’re all taken BS. I happen to know a litany of guys who are locked and loaded and ready to troll. There’s a bustling economy of eligible young men for you to choose from.”
“Trollsbeing the operative word.” I take off my shoes and reposition myself with my legs beneath me, accidently landing so close to him our shoulders touch. “And for your information, it’s a false economy. Half the guys at Briggs don’t realize their future prospective girlfriends are stalking them. Hitting on a guy who has a huntress attached to him is just as bad as getting together with someone who is very much taken.”
“Geez. You girls and your head games.” He winces before settling on a movie that we both agree on. I’ve actually seen it before. A couple goes on a retreat to save their relationship and basically end up hooking up with the entire island until they eventually hook up with one another again, and they head home seemingly better for the experience. It’s screwball enough for Lawson to love it.
