Some part of me, for the very first time, is scared of what his family will think of me. Other people’s opinions have never mattered much, not to me at least, and this new feeling of fear is quite uncomfortable where it sits heavily in the pit of my stomach.
“Eli! Rowan! Welcome in, want a booth?” Kandi greets us, her long dark hair pulled up into a ponytail that sways dramatically with every step she takes.
“No, thanks,” I say. “Can we get a large table? We have nine more coming.”
“Oh, wow!” she gasps, eyes widening. “A party? Sure, let me arrange some tables.”
As she scurries away, Rowan and I stand by the empty host stand, and I spot Bennett taking the order of an elderly couple toward the back of the diner.
He catches my eye and gives me a soft smile before turning away.
“You nervous?” Rowan suddenly asks. “You look nervous.”
“Are you projecting?” I joke.
“Maybe.”
“Don’t be, they’ll love you.” He nods, running his free hand over my hair. Not to comfort me, but to comfort himself. “If I’m honest, I think Iamnervous,” I admit.
Rowan grins. “I knew it. Your hand is sweaty.”
“Hey!” When I try to rip it free from his, he grips me tighter. “Don’t be mean.”
Instead of answering, he places a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“Follow me,” Kandi calls from a few paces away, and we trail after her as she takes us to two long tables lined together in the center of the room. “Look good?”
“It’s great, thanks, Kandi,” Rowan responds.
“I’ll be back to take your drink order after everyone arrives,” she says.
Rowan and I take a seat at the center of the tables, side by side, and he immediately unwraps my silverware and takes my butter knife away.
I can handle butterknives just fine, but ever since he heard the full rundown of my anxiety, he’s been eliminating any potential triggers wherever he can.
It’s moments like these where I think I may very well love him.
“Thank you,” I mumble, and his warm hand settles over my thigh in response.
Five minutes later, as I’m about to order myself a Coke despite the lack of our guests, a loud, familiar voice shouts across the room.
“Lovebug!”
“Dear lord,” I sigh, and I can feel Rowan repressing his laughter.
Standing from my seat, I greet my mother. She approaches quickly, wrapping me in her arms as she rests her head against my chest.
“Hey, Mom,” I greet.
“Looking good, Eli,” Dad grins, covering Mom with his chest as he joins in on the hug.
“God, you guys are so loud,” I hear Jess groan, and my parents pull away to peek around me at Rowan.
“You must be the boyfriend,” Dad says, grinning widely.
“Thefirstboyfriend!” Mom beams, pulling Rowan up from his chair as she hugs him like they’ve known each other for years.
Rowan gives me panicked eyes as he returns the gesture, and I can’t help but chuckle at his discomfort. He asked for this, after all.
