Page 182 of The Encore’s Crown

I don’t want to poke the bear. Don’t want to hand him one stupid reason to ruin Ma’s birthday before we’ve even sat down. There’ll already be enough reasons. Natalia sets the mascara aside and reaches for something else in the little pile spread across my dresser.

“It’s sweet.”

“What is?”

“How much effort you’re making for your mom.”

I nod once.

“Yeah.”

She watches me, waiting for more. I don’t give it to her. She turns back toward the mirror and starts blending something along her cheekbone. I try to focus on that. The small movements of her wrist. The crease between her brows when she concentrates. The way she opens her mouth slightly while doing her makeup like she needs every part of her face involved.

Watching her helps. She makes the room feel normal. Like this is just a morning. Natalia catches me staring. I shake my head, but the tightness in my chest eases a little. She turns back to the mirror, then pauses.

“You really are nervous.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“No.” She puts down the brush. “You’re doing the jaw thing. The one where it looks like you’re trying to bite through your own teeth.”

I force my jaw loose.

“Better?”

She laughs, and I look away before she can see how much I needed the sound.

“I’ve just never…” I start.

The words stop on their own. In the mirror, her eyes lift to mine.

“You’ve never what?”

I rub the back of my neck. I stare at her, then at the floor.

“I’ve never brought anyone to meet them.”

Natalia’s expression changes as she understands.

“Anyone?”

I shake my head. Her face softens so fast it almost hurts to look at. She crosses the room and slides both arms around my neck.

“You’ve never introduced someone to your parents?”

“No.”

She studies my face like this is something fragile I’ve handed her. I let myself look back. Her hair is only half done. One eyelash darker than the other. Robe slipping slightly off one shoulder.

Beautiful.

She rises onto her toes and kisses me. Her mouth moves over mine with quiet tenderness, giving more than it asks for. When she draws back, her lips stay against mine.

“I’d say the same thing,” she whispers, “but my parents are basically the neighborhood’s parents.”

I breathe out through my nose.

“Everyone comes over. They own a local shop. Anyone I dated in high school already knew them before they knew they were dating me.”