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The sentiment is sweet, but the words make me giggle. “I think we’ve reached our limit for sports analogies today.”
He laughs a little harder this time. “We may have reached our limits for analogies, but I know something else that I could never tire of.”
“Better say me, Westcott, or you’re sleeping in the spare bedroom tonight.”
“Technically, it’s a part of you—Ow!” I wallop him in the arm.
“You deserved that.” But he’s right. I need to add weights to my routine.
I’m grabbed and pulled against him. I think so he can squeeze my ass. “You do have an incredible pussy—”
“Hello, Harbor.”
“Oh shit,” he mutters under his breath.
I don’t want to turn around, but Harbor’s hands have abandoned me, so I know my worst nightmare is about to come true.
“Hi, Mom. Dad.”
I suck in a breath and put on my best smile, holding my head high. When I turn around, his mom smiles at me like I’m Santa Claus and I just made her Christmas. “Hello, Lark.”
Harbor goes to the screen door and pushes it open for them. “How much of that did you hear?”
“More than a mother wants to.”
Then the floor opens beneath my feet and ends my misery. I wish. Nope. Harbor still holds the title for the lucky one. I’m just the floozy whose face is beet red as I meet the man who carries my soul in his hands, my boyfriend’s parents. With a smile still plastered on my face, I say, “I’m so glad to see you again.”
31
Harbor
After the mountainof a speed bump we ran over when my parents heard things never intended for their ears, it’s been smooth cruising ever since.
I haven’t seen my parents laugh so much in a long time. They’re almost, dare I say, like regular people. People with lives that don’t revolve around their kids and aren’t stuck in suits in stuffy offices or running fundraising events.
Cooking dinner or running us to sports practice.
I don’t recognize these imposters, but I’m not upset about seeing this side of them for the first time.
John, because that’s what we’re calling him now, cracks open another beer can and hands it to my mom. My gaze swings to Lark as I shake my head. She laughs, I think at me, but it could be seeing my mom drink beer from a can. That’s a sight I never thought I’d see, so it’s something we’re experiencing together.
My mom turns the design to read the front of the can. “It’s been a long time since I had one of these.”
“How long?” I ask, thinking I might need another if this night continues like it is. Three’s probably a good stopping point on a school night, plus we have a test in our first class tomorrow. I should probably review the test material, but I have a handy-dandy sexy study buddy to help me memorize the interior biomes of human anatomy. It’s a refresher since I studied that in high school. I think I’ll study the anatomy of a Lark tonight instead.
My mom looks up at the stars and then at my dad. “What was that dock party we went to sophomore year? Do you remember, Port?”
“Probably not if we were drinking these that night. I think we’re going to need the kids to come pick us up to take us home.” He pulls out his phone along with a pair of reading glasses. “I’ll call Noah. Marina can ride with us, and Noah can drive the other car home.”
I chuckle because they’d rather have a newly licensed sixteen-year-old drive them home than their wild child twenty-year-old son.
Lark’s dad sits forward in the patio chair, and says, “You can always crash in the back bedroom, Lark’s old room.”
My mom waves him off. “No. No. We can’t impose like that. It’s no problem for the kids to come get us. It’s only twenty minutes down the road.”
She doesn’t catch it, but I do. John stiffens and looks away, taking another swig of beer to cover up for whatever came over him. I imagine it’s what Lark warned me about—don’t mention the estates.
Turning her attention to Lark, she asks, “How long have you been with Larry’s Catering?”
