Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
New, old boyfriend.
They don’t really have many details on the situation, although, not for lack of trying.
It’s not like I’m embarrassed or ashamed to have rekindled a romance with my soulmate.
It just invites a new level of stress into our relationship I wasn’t ready for.
Truth is…if we’re gonna live together – the next talk I want us to have – then it’s time to stop avoiding some of the more possibly aggravating situations we’re destined to deal with.
However, I’m being hopeful.
This shit went well with Noah.
Fingers crossed it does with Gabe, too.
Ry opens my car door for me on a chortled, “Things must be getting serious between us.” He offers me an open palm to assist in my exiting of his vehicle. “I’ve been officially invited over for a Guess Who reenactment.”
“First off,” I sassily state on an effortless closing of the door, “my dad looks nothing like Bernie Mac.”
“Your Dad looks exactly like Bernie Mac!” Our fingers fold as he locks his car. “He could’ve been the man’s fucking stunt double!”
“And second,” more playfulness appears in my tone, “it’s not them you have to worry about…”
There’s a small tugging at his collar of his aqua blue polo that gets me turned on almost more than the new cologne I convinced him to wear. “Yeah…I figured as much.”
We cautiously enter my parent’s home hand in hand with me silently thankful we decided to arrive an hour earlier than my brother. “We’re here!”
“Mom’s finishing up the calzones for baking, and I’m working on the booze,” Dad calls to us from their kitchen. “Do you want sangria or daiquiris, birthday girl?”
I immediately toss my boyfriend a concerned expression to which he grins. “It’s fine, baby. Drink whatever you want.”
“But-”
“It’s your birthday,” he happily emphasizes. “Stop worrying about me.”
Our entry into the kitchen area has their beams brightening before looks of surprise shift into place.
“Hi…” I sheepishly state on a small wave. They immediately return their attention to me, embracing me the second I’m within reach. Birthday greetings are given prior to my polite introduction to the man I’m glad is back in my life. “Mom, Dad, you remember, Ryder.”
“Your high school sweetheart,” Mom comments first, voice riddled with a bit of uncertainty.
“The young man who broke your heart,” Dad states during his approach to my boyfriend.
Rather than shy away from the accusation, Ry keeps chin high and accepts the label. “Yes, sir. I did make that mistake.”
Nervousness has me nibbling on my bottom lip.
Wanting to reach over and grab a nearby tortilla chip.
“And it is one I have never forgiven myself for.”
“Seems my daughter has,” my father casually states while extending his open palm forward. “How about you try it, too?”
Relief lands on both mine and Ry’s shoulders.
I knew my parents would be the easy ones.
Ry plants his hand in my father’s for shaking. “I don’t deserve that forgiveness, sir, but I promise not to make the same mistake twice.”
Dad grins wide and steps out of the way for my mother to welcome Ry with a huge hug.
Once she has, the expected interrogation on how we reconnected begins. Mom resumes her final touches on dinner while Dad grabs all the ingredients for our frozen drink. We explain in an oscillating fashion how close yet how far we had been before reconnecting. One hand lingers on the small of my back from my boyfriend the entire time and having him close and affectionate and actively engaged in the conversation is like night and day compared to past experiences with Xander.
The instant Dad’s finished filling glasses he offers us each one. I noticeably tense, expecting Ry to be reluctant to reveal why he can’t drink – for fear of their disapproval –, yet he’s forthcoming.
Open.
Honest.
And his commitment to sobriety seems to bring pride to both of their expression as well as their voice as they commend him for a never-ending battle.
Mom retrieves him a diet soda from the fridge and afterward we relocate to the living room for a few rounds of cards.
My. Favorite.
We start by sitting side by side for a round of Spades. Game play instantly takes me back in time to high school dinners where he’d join us for this exact fun. Laughter is prevalent. Drinks are flowing. Good-natured goading is continuously going. Playing men against women was Dad’s idea; however, after losing a few hands, he expresses that maybe partners in relationships connect better.
Mom takes her turn to shuffle the cards right as I finish the last sip of my drink.
“Stay seated, birthday girl.” Ry immediately picks up my glass and prepares to get me a refill. “Let me do the gentlemanly thing.”
“You mean the impress my parent thing?” I playfully poke.
“That too,” he winks, receiving laughter from everyone.
Thanks to everything flowing so smoothly, it doesn’t even register to me how much time has passed until I see Antonio strutting into the room with my adorably dressed niece sitting on his hip. “Happy birthday, sis!”