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I learned my lesson last night. That’s all that matters.
“Bree…”
“James,” I mock him. “Seriously, I’m good.”
“Yeah, well, dad’s apparently raging. He called me a few minutes ago,” he lets me know with a somber timber.
A lump finds its way to my throat, making me hold my breath.
“Really? Why is that?” I ask, doing my best at keeping my voice steady.
James laughs.
“Please, dumbass. You know that he’s going to be flamming because you stayed over at a guy’s house,” he states.
I gulp as a tremor moves my body.
“Oh.”
“Yes,oh,” James retorts.
“In my defense, I didn’t plan on staying over. It just happened,” I declare. “His place was closer than mine, so I went there because he’s a good friend. Plus, nothing happened.”
James hums.
“What kind of idiot do you think I am? You can try to fool dad, but me?” He snorts. “I know you better than you know yourself, and it wasn’t that long ago that Iwasa college student. I’m not stupid.”
A groan escapes my lips because I’m not lying for once. Nothing out of place happened between us. Stanley was a complete gentleman.
“Believe what you want. Whatever,” I mumble, annoyed.
“C’mon, you know that I’m messing with you,” he speaks in a lighter tone. “Am I ever going to meet this guy?”
My back turns rigid as a wave of fear and tension hits me. I can’t allow that to happen. Not yet, anyway. Stanley is not ready to spend time with my family. Primarily when we haven’t spoken about what’s going to happen between us, we simply broke the first coat of the ice that surrounded us. There’s still a whole iceberg to discover and explore before we get into that.
“Not gonna happen, dude.”
“Huh, you must really like this guy then.”
His words catch me off guard.
“What?” I croak.
“You’re protecting this guy. Although if I had to bet on who he is, I’m going to say it’s the guy from your photos.”
Panic settles in my stomach.
“Who?” I question.
“The blond guy, the Ken. You’ve uploaded a couple of photos with him, and he always grabs you by the waist.”
Oh, fuck.
I had forgotten entirely about the two posts that I’ve made in which Stanley appears; the one from the time he cooked pasta, and the Halloween photos. There’s a pattern in both times, now that I think about it. Stanley was next to me with his hand on my waist. I didn’t believe that anyone from my family would put the pieces together, mostly because I hadn’t made peace with the fact that I like Stan.
“I plead the fifth,” I utter.
“Gotcha,” he chuckles. “But Mom is going to be all over you during Thanksgiving if you don’t give her any info.”
