Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Not to tell his mother we’d fucked him?
But since that was already out the window, I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Um, I don’t know.” Shit. My brain wasn’t working fast enough. “I haven’t thought about it.”
Nodding, Joel kissed my cheek. “We’ll make sure we keep communicating about it then.”
He meant that to be reassuring, I knew that. But he just kept scaring the fuck out of me.
“Yes. Thank you.” Was there any way to tell my adorably enthusiastic partner that talking about sex with his mouther was insane?
“You’re welcome.” Curling into me, he beamed. “I’m so excited to show her how wonderful you are. She hasn’t met you enough to really get to know you, so I want to fix that.”
Demi.
I could almost see a cartoon light bulb go off over Tate’s head too.
“Yes, I bet it takes her a while to feel like she really understands new people?” We might’ve known Joel for three years but we’d only hung out with his parents a handful of times.
Because they’d always seemed slightly standoffish, so we’d avoided them.
God.
“Yeah, but I made sure she’s heard lots of stories and I think she’s getting comfortable now.” Looking like it could’ve been his birthday and Christmas all rolled up into one, Joel gave a happy wiggle. “She’s excited to see you this time.”
That had to mean it’d been stressful before at the very least.
Shit.
I couldn’t even complain about the sexual oversharing because he wanted her to know us and like us.
God, his family was so stressful even without the weird bits.
Tate was coughing to cover his laughter and headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Something in my throat. Sorry.”
“Don’t get sick.” Frowning, Joel watched Tate like a hawk. “I don’t want us to have to postpone dinner.”
Yeah, we couldn’t have that.
“I just swallowed wrong or something.” Getting a quick drink, Tate waved his hand at Joel. When he was finished, he gave a bright smile. “I’m fine. I was just excited and wasn’t paying attention.”
“To swallowing?” Joel was clearly having a hard time with the excuse, but his expression said he thought Tate was insane or broken, not hiding laughter.
“Sorry for worrying you.” Tate set his glass down and came over to give Joel a kiss on the head before he sat down beside us. “So, is there anything we need to know about dinner with your family? Anything…anything that might be different than what we’re used to?”
The change in topic was probably the best idea but the new one confused Joel just as much as the swallowing problem had.
“Um, like what?” His gaze bounced between us as he looked more and more confused. “I think this is a me problem. I get that. But I don’t know what you mean.”
Great.
“Um, well, my family doesn’t have the same board game expectations that yours does.” Trying to give him an example made me sound like I’d lost a few screws, but I did my best. “Maybe something else like that? Are there foods that are too personal or are there manners you do at your house that you haven’t seen anyone else at the dining hall doing?”
I couldn’t remember him ever pointing out someone in the dining hall being inappropriate, but I also hadn’t realized board games were only for consenting adults in a serious relationship.
So, yeah, I wasn’t going to make any assumptions because I’d missed some big ones along the way already.
“Oh.” Understanding flashed over his face but it was quickly replaced by confusion again before he shrugged. “Probably but I can’t think of anything.”
Wonderful.
Tate had caught up with the conversation and hadn’t started giggling again as he finally chimed in. “So we get there and say hello to your parents. We give them the dessert or flowers we brought for them to be polite and we—”
“You what?” Joel went bug-eyed and nearly fell off my lap. “Absolutely not.”
Huh?
Tate and I both froze.
He’d fucked up something—and, honestly, I was glad it hadn’t been me—but nothing made sense.
I knew Tate was in the same boat because he looked like Joel had just screamed out a safeword unexpectedly. He recovered faster than I did, though, and nodded slowly as he watched Joel like I had a small rabid animal on my lap and its teeth had just come out. “Thank you for pointing out there was something we shouldn’t do.”
That made Joel happier because the tension in his body faded quickly and I wasn’t precariously balancing a mannequin on my lap any longer, but confusion filled his face just as quickly. “You…”
He’d finally realized that we were really fucking lost, but it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. “The movies were right? You’d bring them flowers?”
Flowers?
His shocked anger had been about flowers?
Tate just blinked a few times, so I decided it was my turn since Joel might’ve broken his Dom. “Yes, the movies are probably right in this instance. In most of the country it’s appropriate and some places even expected for you to bring a gift for the hosts like wine and then something specific for the woman like flowers. It’s not considered intimate. Just polite.”