Both of his parents slightly incline their heads. A quick glance at Ren finds him nodding, so I mimic what they do and say the word he taught me. “Ni hao.”
His mother smiles. His father looks both amused and impressed. I hope that means I said it correctly.
“I’ll get your bags,” Ren says. “Come on, Felton.”
I slip into my shoes and follow him outside, thankful when he doesn’t leave me alone with his parents. I’m not sure what to say yet.
“Couple things,” he says when we’re outside. “Parents are often inquisitive of anyone in their child’s life. They’re probably going to ask you a lot of questions. Please don’t feel like it’s an attack; it’s just our culture. Also, there’s very little PDA in front of parents or family. So me not touching you isn’t a reflection of how I feel or whether I want to. It’s respectful and expected of me.”
I nod. He hands me a suitcase and takes the second. After he shuts the trunk and hits it so the driver knows he can take off, he turns to me and pulls my face down to kiss me. I breathe him in, unsure when I’ll be able to next. “Just relax. Be yourself.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“We should have talked more earlier, but I was enjoying feeling you against me while we had the opportunity. They’ve been here before many times, so they know how very different the culture is.”
“I just want them to like me.”
Ren presses another kiss to my lips. “They’re going to love you, tián xin.”
Not going to lie, I completely melt when he calls me that. It’s only the second time, but I light up like the Fourth of July inside.
I follow Ren inside and we place the suitcases in the spare room for his parents. It’s not as awkward as I expect it to be when we join them in the living room. Ren makes sure he takes me with him when he leaves to get tea and some cakes—which look like cookies to me—while we wait for his brother.
His brother, Jin, arrives a couple hours later, and after a few minutes of catching up as a family, Ren takes me into the kitchen to cook with him. I’m making dumplings again, though the inside is different. I also make wontons for soup, which are very similar to me.
We make char siu, which is a pork dish that smells divine. I may drool a little. Then we make steamed pork buns and noodles. The noodles at least look familiar and I’m confident I’ve had them in Chinese restaurants before. But when Ren sneaks me a taste, I know nothing has ever been as good.
Dinner is pleasant and they all speak in English, which I’m sure is mostly for my benefit. It’s a little difficult to understand his parents at first since their accents are a lot thicker. Jin’s isn’tquite so pronounced, though there’s no mistaking that English isn’t his first language.
For a while, I just listen to them talk. Not the conversation so much as their words. How they talk. I find it calming. Pleasant. I love their pronunciations and how their sentences are spoken slightly differently than how I’m used to hearing.
I clean up with Ren, then we head to bed. He follows me into the bathroom. “Brush your teeth, Fel.”
He stands at the sink next to the one he nudges me in front of and together, we brush our teeth. When we’re finished, he pulls me to him and pushes me onto the counter, where he stands between my legs. I don’t flush at all. Especially not when his hands land on my thighs. The air is thick in here all of the sudden.
“Tell me about your normal nighttime routine,” he says.
“I brush my teeth, wash my hands and face. If I’m really sweaty from the day, I’ll take another shower.”
He nods. “What do you sleep in?”
My cheeks heat a little when I answer. “Underwear. The little ones because they don’t get twisted when I move around. But I can?—”
“Hush,” he cuts me off, and I stop talking. “I don’t want to break your routine, Felton. I want you to keep your sense of normalcy, so I need to know the things that you do. The clothes you like to wear, when. What makes you most comfortable for mornings or nights or meals. I’m very happy to tell you what to do, but I don’t want to change you, Fel. I just want to take the pressure away so you can find some joy in life again.”
I may fall in love with this man. It’s a very big possibility.
“I asked about food allergies, but do you have any others?”
I shake my head. “Do you?”
He smiles. “Penicillin. All the cillins—amoxicillin, temocillin, Augmentin.” Ren lifts his arm to show me something on hiswrist. It’s a tattoo that I’ve never seen before. “This lets everyone know if I’m unable to speak that I have a severe penicillin allergy.”
“It’s permanent?”
Ren nods. “Yep. I used to wear a bracelet, but with hockey, that’s not always possible. So I tattooed it on my wrist, right where the medics would look.”
“What happens if you have penicillin?”
