Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I came by to tell you we need you to bring potato salad today,” she told her son, obviously not caring about the awkwardness of the situation.
“Awesome. I have a phone you could have used for that. I’ll pick some up on the way,” Sean replied.
“No. You know I hate the store-bought stuff.”
“I don’t know how to make it,” Sean told her.
She turned to me and I was again reminded that I was standing in my underwear in front of his mother. “Do you know how to make potato salad?” she asked.
“Umm…yes?” I managed to find my voice.
“Do you have plans today?” Barbara continued.
“No…?” Why the hell was I answering her as though my replies were questions?
“Good. So you’ll come to the barbecue with Sean and help make the potato salad. It’ll be fun. Everyone will love to meet you.”
“Wait…what…I…”
She waved her hand at me. “Shush. None of that. I promise not to embarrass you.”
That made me frown. “I don’t get embarrassed.”
She grinned as though she’d just figured something out about me. “Prove it. See you at three, dear.” Then Barbara turned to Sean. “Good catch.” And just as quickly as she’d stormed into his condo, she was gone.
“Oh my God,” Sean said before leaning over with his elbows on the counter and his hands in his hair. “I’m so sorry. She’s obviously crazy. You don’t have to go today.”
I shook my head, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “I’m pretty sure your mom just issued me a challenge.” How could I not go now?
“Your funeral,” Sean replied. “Apparently, you’re both crazy.”
No, I wasn’t crazy. I just didn’t like the fact that she obviously didn’t think I would go. She was wrong.
We stopped by my condo so I could get a change of clothes and then went to the store together and got the stuff for the potato salad. Sean helped while I made it but with each moment that went by, my stomach twisted into a tighter knot.
As we sat in Sean’s car on the way to his parents’ house, I was convinced I’d lost my damn mind and was making the biggest mistake of my life. I was going to a family barbecue with a guy I’d let dick me last night? What the hell was he doing to me?
“You’re freaking out,” Sean said from the driver’s seat.
“I’m not freaking out,” I snapped, pissed because he seemed to know me too damn well. I felt the same about him and that was another what the fuck moment.
“Okay.”
“Now you’re trying to pacify me. You don’t really believe I’m not freaking out. If you think I’m freaking out, Sean, say it.”
He opened his mouth, and I waited for him to confirm what we both knew I was doing but instead, boisterous, passionate laughter burst from his lips. It was happy and contagious and even though I wanted to cross my arms and pout, I couldn’t help but laugh too. My stomach cramped and Sean squeezed the steering wheel as we acted like a couple of teenagers who were drunk for the first time. I couldn’t remember ever laughing with anyone the way I laughed with Sean right then. I felt like I continued to say that, continued to have these firsts with him that made my head a mess.
Sean got me…we got each other, and part of me was pissed at him about that.
Our laughter settled down just as Sean pulled up to the curb in front of a house that looked like it belonged on TV. It was similar to where I’d grown up with my grandmother but then I thought about Sean’s mom and how kind and caring she’d been, how much she obviously loved Sean and I knew I wouldn’t find anything similar to the home I’d shared with her.
Would my parents have eventually lived in a house like this? Would we have played catch in the front yard? Would my mom have been like Barbara if she’d walked in on me with Sean today?
I closed my eyes, fighting back those memories that had no business plaguing me so much lately. This shit happened too long ago. I was over it now.
“Hey.” Sean’s hand touched my cheek and it felt so damn intimate. “You don’t have to do this. Seriously. I know it’s a lot. My family is a lot. The only thing you wanted last night was my dick to meet your prostate,” he joked. “Not a family get-together.”
I opened my eyes and looked at him. “I think they got along well, don’t you?”
“My dick and your prostate?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’m not freaking out. Plus, my potato salad is fucking incredible. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“I mean, it was made by Ethan Fucking Harris. How could it not be good?”