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He tilted his head. “You’re wound up.” He crossed the small room to where I was standing by the bed. “Were you nervous or something?”
The laugh that came out was a little high. “You think? I’ve never done this before. And I mean… Do you think they like me?” I glanced furtively toward the closed door before looking up at Isaiah again. “Your mom didn’t seem happy about me being younger than you.”
“They like you fine.” He put his hands on my waist and kissed my forehead. “After all the shit with my ex, they’re just protective of me. Especially my mom.”
I relaxed a little. “So I’m overthinking it?”
He smiled, carding his fingers through my hair. “I’ll be just as nervous when I meet your parents. It’s all good.”
Well, that was encouraging. Maybe I wasn’t bombing this as bad as I felt like I was.
He must’ve noticed my relief, because he reeled me all the way in and hugged me to his chest. “You’re fine. Trust me—if they didn’t like you, I’d know about it. Mom’s a little weird about me being with a younger guy, but after the shit my ex put me through, I don’t think our ages bother her that much.”
God, I hoped not.
Because I really, really didn’t want to fuck this up.
Chapter 25
Isaiah
My niece’sgraduation party drew a surprisingly huge crowd. We had a lot of family living fairly close, and they all poured into my parents’ backyard with gifts and congratulations for Ella. Dozens of her friends came, too; I’d assumed they’d all be having parties with their own families, but apparently they’d all scheduled them on different days so they could attend each other’s parties.
Mom had anticipated all the other new grads attending, and she’d made little gift bags for all of them. When the bags were set up on a table on the deck, I had to chuckle. They reminded me of similar bags she’d made for my friends to take home after birthday parties and my own graduation party when I was a kid. They were decorated with ribbons in the high school’s colors, with the year and a cardboard graduation cap.
They weren’t just stuffed with random crap, either. Tanner and I had helped her put them together last night, and she’d hooked these kids up: a Starbucks gift card, some nice pens, a two-pack of Milano cookies (with a substitution for one kid who had celiac), and three scratch-off lottery tickets.
“Geez, Mom,” I’d said, peering into one of the bags I’d just stuffed last night. “Is this where my inheritance is going?”
Mom had giggled. “No, no, honey.” She’d stapled another bag shut and casually added, “I’m using that for a boob job.”
“Mother!”
Tanner had almost choked on his drink. My face had burned hot even as I’d laughed. And Mom just batted her eyes and smiled.
Now the bags were full, stapled, and labeled with each kid’s name. Food was out on the tables on the deck and in the backyard, and people were starting to arrive.
Not five minutes after she’d arrived, my niece came up to me and Tanner, grinning ear to ear and tugging along a kid about her age. “So this is my uncle’s boyfriend, Tan—”
“Tanner Jeffries.” The kid stared wide-eyed at Tanner. “No shit?”
Tanner laughed and extended his hand. “No shit.”
“Whoa.” The kid’s eyes flicked back and forth between us. “You guys are…” He turned to Ella. “How come you didn’t tell me your uncle was boyfriends with Tanner Jeffries?”
“I just did,” she giggled. “And I didn’t know until the other day, so…” She shrugged. To us, she said, “T.J. is a big hockey fan.”
“Yeah?” Tanner grinned. “Yellow Jackets fan?”
T.J. blushed bright red. “Uh. Well.” He shuffled his feet. “I’m a Boston fan, but there’s still players I follow on other teams, you know?” He cringed as if he expected Tanner to be pissed at that response.
I wasn’t at all surprised when Tanner, ever the easygoing guy, just shrugged and smiled. “Eh, I don’t blame you. I’m a huge Alex Olsson fan.”
“Really?” My niece’s boyfriend perked up. “Even though he’s not on your team?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tanner waved that away. “The sport isn’t really that big, and we all either know each other or grew up fans of each other. Like, I’m seriously happy in Pittsburgh—I love my team—but I wantedso badto be drafted by Calgary so I could play with Olsson.”
The two of them fell into easy conversation about hockey, and T.J. gradually shifted from starstruck to obviously thrilled to be able to talk sports with someone. I wondered if he felt a little like I had at the bar the night the Yellow Jackets had secured their spot in the playoffs—aware I was in the presence of someone I’d admired from a distance, but mostly caught up in just talking and having a good time.
