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He grabs his toothbrush and brushes his teeth, staring at me until he speaks around his toothbrush. “It’s fine. Not something I thought either of us was ready for, but whatever, it’s fine.”
Fine.The word people use when they really mean it’s not, but they have no choice. That’s what fine means.
He spits and I finish doing my makeup before jumping down from the counter to get dressed. It’s going to be a ponytail day. Hopefully Mama Mancini doesn’t judge me too much.
Enzo follows me into his bedroom. The television from the living room is blaring so loudly, I can almost hear the commentators of the baseball game.
“My dad’s preferred volume,” Enzo says, putting on a fresh pair of boxer briefs before stepping into athletic pants.
I shrug on my own panties and jeans. “Great. What about the condom ad?”
He’s been taking the lead on it, but I offered a few suggestions he said we’d talk over today. I can’t help but think he believes he knows more about condoms than I do. Just because he’s used them on hundreds of women doesn’t mean he knows how to sell them better than me.
Okay, I don’t want to think about how many women he’s used them on.
“Tonight.” He throws on a shirt and walks over to kiss me. “The pitch is in two weeks. We have time.”
“Not if we don’t want to act out a skit again.”
He laughs. “That was fun, but we’ll meet with Billy tomorrow to discuss.”
He sits on the edge of his messed-up bed. The sheets are wrinkled, the comforter a mess in the middle.
After throwing on a V-neck T-shirt that’s plain and boring, I stare at myself in his dresser mirror. This sucks. Here I am looking like an over-age college student, and I have to meet his parents for the first time.
“Come sit on Daddy,” he says.
“Ew… I’m not joking, stop with that.”
He laughs again, patting his leg.
I sit on his leg and wrap my arms around his neck. “What’s up, shy guy?”
He narrows his eyes, his fingers finding the bare patch of skin between the waist of my jeans and my shirt. His finger trails a path across my skin, igniting a rupture of goose bumps. “We talked about that.”
“And we talked about daddy.”
“Touché.”
“We need to get out there. Carm’s probably telling my mom we’re having sex.”
“Probably.”
“Before we do, I want you to know something… this might not have been what I was expecting today, but you’re important to me, Annie, and in a way, I’m happy to introduce you to my family. So don’t try to leave or run away.” He waits for me to say something.
“Okay,” I say softly.
“Plus, this is just like a long intermission for our Sunday fun day.” He gets me on my back, and his body covers mine. “You look gorgeous.”
His mouth descends on mine, and for a few moments, I’m lost in Hurricane Enzo.
He gets up, holds out his hand for me, and pulls me up off the bed. I follow him as he opens the door.
Carm is sitting on the couch, no shoes on, legs crossed on the coffee table. A smirk lands on his face as soon as we enter from the hallway. His dad is concentrating on the television, so I’m not sure he sees us. If I wanted to know where the boys got their height, it’s their dad. He’s an older version of them with a more weathered look. I figure it’s from working with his hands more than his sons ever will.
Enzo’s hand wraps around mine. “Ma. Pa. This is Annie Stewart. This is my ma Anna and my dad Giuseppe.”
He fails to say girlfriend, and I wonder what that means, if anything.
