Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Fuck dinner,” I say, taking a step toward her.
“Brock Atwood, you’ve been chomping at the bit to tell your family. You really want to wait longer?”
I drop my head and sigh. “Beautiful, sexy as hell, and the voice of reason,” I say, lifting my head and giving her a wink. “We’ll go now, but just so you know all this pent-up sexual tension I’m feeling will need to be released as soon as we get back.”
She rests her hand on my chest with a devilish grin on her face. “Oh, I’m counting on it. Now I need to reapply my lipgloss.”
I smirk at her.
Fuck, this girl is everything.
The drive to my parents' house is quick, the familiar route filled with anticipation. As we walk up to the door, I reach for Willow's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She glances up at me, her eyes reflecting the same mix of excitement and nervousness I feel.
“I love you,” I whisper softly, my voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.
“I love you, too,” she responds, her smile warming me from the inside out.
I push the door open and we step inside, the comforting aroma of Sunday dinner enveloping us immediately. “Hello?” I call out, my voice echoing slightly in the hallway.
“In here,” my mother shouts back from the kitchen.
The scent of roast chicken and freshly baked bread fills the air, mingling with the faint hint of my mother's favorite lavender cleaning spray. It's a smell that embodies home and family, a feeling that has only recently begun to truly resonate with me.
As we enter the kitchen, Willow tightens her grip on my hand. My mother, standing in front of the sink, turns her head at the sound of our footsteps. Her eyes widen in delight, and she quickly dries her hands on a nearby towel.
“Willow, oh sweetheart, I’m so happy to see you,” she exclaims, rushing over to envelop Willow in a warm, enthusiastic hug.
“All right, Mom, let her breathe,” I say, laughing as I gently pry my mother away, her affection as overpowering as the scent of dinner wafting through the house.
Willow laughs as my mother grabs her hands, looking between us with eager eyes. “I’m not going to make any assumptions, so tell me before I burst.”
“Yes, Willow and I are together. For real,” I say, a smile spreading across my face.
My mother laughs, pulling us both into a warm embrace. “I knew it. I knew I was right. The way you two look at each other, there was no way that was fake.” She pulls back, her smile so wide it makes her eyes sparkle. “I told you that weddings are a great place to find love.”
“Yes, you did, and this time you were right,” I admit, the warmth of her joy washing over me.
“Well, look who it is. Did you come to give no details of what’s going on with you two, even though it’s clearly something?” Anya asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she walks past us. “Hi, Mom.”
“Bro, please tell her something. I can only handle so much,” Griffin says, shaking his head in exasperation.
“Baby August is here!” Shepherd yells from the other room, and the entire kitchen empties as everyone rushes to see the newest addition to the family.
I glance at Willow and shrug. “August gets all the attention, I guess.”
We both laugh, following the crowd to see if there's any chance my mother will let someone else hold him.
Callum and Tripp finally arrive just before we all sit down for dinner. The table is laden with my mother's best dishes, each one steaming and smelling delicious. As we settle into our seats, I rest my hand on Willow’s leg under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.
She looks at me and smiles, her eyes reflecting the warmth and love that fills the room. This is what home feels like, I think to myself, surrounded by family, laughter, and the comforting presence of the people I love most.
“Okay,” I say, standing up. “I’ve kept this in for as long as possible, but I can’t wait another second.” All eyes are on me and they obviously know because of the smiles and the way they are looking at me and Willow. “Willow and I are officially together. Like for real together. There’s nothing fake about it. I love her and somehow I’m lucky enough that she loves me back.”
“I knew it!” Anya shouts.
Everyone congratulates us, each person echoing the sentiment that they had known all along from the way we were with each other. It seems our feelings were obvious to everyone except us.
I’m so happy to have it all out in the open and to feel the love and support of my family. Willow relaxes beside me, and her comfort makes me even happier. It's as if a weight has been lifted from both of us, allowing us to breathe freely for the first time.