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I blinked. “Call her.”
He grinned. “I texted. She told me she would talk to me tomorrow because her and my dad were going out on a date at a local winery, and she wasn’t letting some ‘punk little kid’ ruin it for her.”
I snickered. “I like your mom. A lot.”
His eyes were soft as he said, “Me, too.” He paused. “I told you that I had the best parents.”
With that, I burst out laughing.
Lock handed me a beer, which I took despite it not being my favorite, and together we ate until we couldn’t eat anymore.
It was only after beer number three for me, and beer number four for him, that I realized that we’d somehow domesticated our relationship.
We’d gone from being brand new to acting like an old married couple, in the span of two weeks.
“Lock,” I said. “I’m going to tell my parents about you.”
He frowned.
“Tell them about me how?” he asked. “They already know about me.”
I flushed.
“I meant that we’re together,” I corrected him. “That we’re seeing each other.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes.
“Well, since we’re on that subject.” He paused. “We have a family dinner tomorrow night. My entire family is going to be there. Parents. One of my sisters. Aunts and uncles. We get together once a month at my parents’ place, or my aunt’s place, and we play board games. Eat shit.”
“Two days of eating like shit.” I widened my eyes at Lock. “How will you survive?”
He grinned. “Tomorrow is my long run day. I’m just gonna call this carb-loading.”
I snickered.
“How long is your long run this week?” I asked curiously.
He looked like he didn’t want to tell me.
“What?” I asked.
“You called me crazy for doing eight last week,” he said. “That wasn’t even my long run. I didn’t have time to get a long run in since I had to work that day.”
I poked him in the chest with a piece of pizza.
He looked down at his bare chest that now had a smear of pizza sauce near his clavicle, and wiped it off before sucking the sauce into his mouth.
I felt all hot and bothered just by that one move.
“How many?” I asked.
“How many miles?” he teased.
I went to poke him again, but instead of it touching his skin, he bent down and took a massive bite.
“Hey!” I cried out. “That’s my piece!”
“If you don’t want me taking bites, you better keep it away from me,” he teased. “And I’m running twelve tomorrow.”
