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10
Brunch
“Chloe!”Blair Hansen exclaims as I approach their table.
All three of them stood up when they first spotted my father. The respect they have for him is apparent, especially in the way Bob rushes to shake his hand.
“Hello, Mrs. Hansen,” I reply, walking over to where she’s waiting with open arms. She pulls me in for a hug, the same kind she used to envelop me in when I first started dating her son.
Speaking of the devil himself…
“Chloe. You look well,” Josh says, his voice like nails on a chalkboard.
“Thanks,” I reply without looking over at him.
Rushing to take the seat farthest from Josh, he follows behind me, pulls out my chair, and once I’m seated, slides into the one next to me.
“So, tell me, how have you been?” he asks, placing a cloth napkin in his lap.
He’s being polite. Too polite. I’ve known Josh since before either of us hit puberty. He’s never cared for anyone but himself. His actions made that perfectly clear time and time again. He’s also not one for small talk.
It’s funny. There are times when Addy reminds me of Josh because of that. She doesn’t feel the need to talk things to death. It’s all facts, straight to the point, and she never beats around the bush. Josh used to be the same way.
He never would have asked how I was doing.
Pulling my chair out for me, that’s never happened before, not even on our first date.
As I chance a glance in my parent’s direction, I find four sets of eyes watching the two of us. Four sets of eyes that look more excited than they should for what I’m assuming will be an average brunch.
This worries me on a whole new level than the other day.
This isn’t just a setup, this is about playing matchmaker, no matter how much my mother wants to deny it. A “slight nudge,” my ass. My bet would be that they actually expect us to get together after this. And what? Get married? Have kids?
Sorry to disappoint, but the memories I have of Josh ensure none of that will ever happen. In fact, if he so much as touches me, I don’t care where we are, I might start swinging.
“Come in for a while,”Josh demands, not even an ounce of sweetness in his voice in an attempt to sound nice.
Pulling my arm from his grip, I shake my head again. “My parents were expecting me home twenty minutes ago. I’m already in trouble.”
“Exactly. Who cares if you’re twenty minutes or two hours late? Late is late. You’re going to be grounded and then we won’t get to see each other for a few weeks.”
“If I make it home soon, maybe it’ll only be for a week. You know how they are.”
“Overprotective if you ask me. I thought they liked me.”
“They do, but I’m their only daughter and we’re still at the age where they question what we’re doing with our time. Plus, it’s late and I’m tired,” I lie.
This is the third time this month he’s tried to get me to stay longer, later. It’s clear his parents aren’t home again. Judging by the look on his face, it’s also clear what he thinks will happen if I come inside.
Apparently the first time I told him no wasn’t a strong enough sign that I wasn’t ready.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he begins, pulling me into his arms and kissing his way down my neck. “Come upstairs for half an hour and I promise to drive you straight home, come inside, and apologize to your parents for breaking curfew. Deal?”
“No deal, Josh. I thought we talked about this already. I’m not ready.”
“There are other things besides sex that can happen in thirty minutes.” His suggestion, accompanied by the wiggle of his eyebrows, sends a shiver up my spine. Not the good kind either.
“I’m not ready for any of it, and I wish you would stop pressuring me about it. We’ve only been dating two months. I’m sorry, but that’s not long enough for me.”
