“Today?” I roll down the window because it’s hot in here, or maybe it’s the news of her parents coming today. “That’s soon,” I say.
“They’ve been in Chicago, so they thought they’dpop uphereto visit me.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Cool. Can’t wait.”
“They’re the best. I promise you’ll love them.”
“Did you tell them the same thing about me?”
“Of course.”
Crap.That’s a lot of pressure. I get out of my car. Since I’m here, I might as well grab some snacks and something to drink.
“But I didn’t get into details about us. I’m saving the really good stuff for when they get here.”
“What’s the really good stuff?”
“I’m going to tell them you have a fascinating job for super nice people. You put yourself between me and oncoming traffic when we’re near a street. You never look at your phone when we’re together. You say the most romantic things, yet I don’t think you’re trying to be romantic. It’s just something that’s effortless for you.”
I laugh. “It’s not effortless. It’s painful because I rarely realize what I’m saying until it’s too late. So as long as you know this might not end well for us tonight …”
“They’re going to love you,” she says with confidence.
I wish I could see myself the way she does. What if they’re the parents who do a background check on their daughter’s boyfriend? This could be the beginning of the end.
Chapter Sixteen
June
“My girl,”Mom says, hugging me the second I open the apartment door.
“Hey!” I melt into her embrace. The familiar scent of coconut oil in her long blond hair makes me feel like I’m a shy little girl again, burying my face in her hair because people are staring at me and my cleft lip.
My mom is ageless, like my grandma.
“Dad!” I throw myself into his arms when Mom releases me.
I don’t have to see my mom to know she’s rolling her eyes. Yeah, I’ve been a daddy’s girl for as long as I can remember.
“How are you, baby?” he asks.
“Good. Better than good.” I release him.
“Would this have anything to do with a certain man you’ve met?” Mom asks, kicking off her sneakers.
I blush, biting back the huge grin dying to steal across my entire face.
“Spill.” Mom grabs my wrist and pulls me to sit next to her on the sofa, angling her body toward mine like she’s my best friend and not my mom. She’s both, really.
Dad escapes into the kitchen, opening cabinet doors until he finds a glass. He’s pretending he can’t hear us.
“Well, I told you his name is Flynn, and he’s a muse.” I wait for Mom’s response.
“That’s …” Her eyes widen for a few seconds in false excitement, then she deflates. “Sorry, baby. What’s a muse? I mean, I know the definition of a muse. I’m just not familiar with it in the context of a job.”
“That makes two of us,” Dad says, sitting in the chair next to the sofa.
So much for his ignoring our conversation.
