Page 66 of The Guy Next Door
ZANE: Sure. I’d love to meet your parents. :)
That shouldn’t make me grin so big, but I can’t help myself. I like the idea of him meeting my family instead of this only being my dirty little secret.
A bit before three, I start listening out for the doorbell as I change into my gym clothes. I’m tying my sneakers when I hear Mom’s voice—sounds like it’s coming from the foyer, followed by Dad’s.
Is he here already?
I finish tying my shoes, then head out. When I reach the top of the stairs, Zane’s inside, chatting with Mom and Dad near the front door.
“And how are you liking the area?” Mom asks.
Zane’s got his hands tucked in his hoodie pockets, not really looking her in the eyes. He looks all tense and awkward.
“Yeah. It’s good,” he says.
Fuck, how does he manage to look so fucking sexy just by being uneasy?
“What made you decide to move here?” Dad asks. “When I was your age, I wanted to be near the city to go out and do things with my friends.”
Zane’s eyes widen.
“Oh, hey, hey!” I call out, hoping to spare him that particular question.
Zane’s gaze shifts to me, and the tension in his expression eases up as his lips curl into a smirk—the sort that has my chest swirling with sensation, my dick plumping up, my ass clenching.
How can he get me all worked up with only a look?
“We were getting to know your new friend,” Mom says.
“Nice that you’re both around the same age,” Dad adds. “The gym’s a great way to get some exercise.”
“He used to go to the gym all the time,” Mom says, “but he hasn’t been getting as much exercise as he should recently. But he’s got his father’s genes, and all it seems to do is plump out those muscles of his.”
“For now,” Dad teases.
My cheeks warm. “Okay, guys. Enough of this. We have to go.”
“He thinks we’re going to embarrass him,” Mom says before Dad chimes in, “But we can do that over dinner sometime soon, right? Maybe get the chef here to whip up something for us?”
“We’re going out of town this weekend through next weekend,” Mom says, “but maybe when we get back?”
“Oh, about that,” I say, figuring this is as good an opportunity as any, “I was wondering if it’d be all right if I had some people over for Thanksgiving.”
Mom’s and Dad’s eyes widen, their mouths slightly open. They aren’t even looking at each other, so I assume this is one of those things they share because they’ve been together so fucking long.
Mom looks to Dad before blurting out, “Of course. That would be great.”
I know they mean well, but the fact that they’re making a big deal out of this is a reminder of how fucked up I’ve been. In the past, they wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but now it’s like they’re about to call theGwinnett Daily Postto see if this can make the front page.
“Yes. That’s totally fine with us,” Dad adds. “Anyway, we’ll get out of your hair, but, Zane, again, we’ll make sure to reach out about dinner when we get back.”
Zane’s expression relaxes, and a warm smile slips across his face. “I’d really like that, Mrs. and Mr. Anderson.”
“Oh, please. Ginny and Paul.”
Dad offers him a handshake, and Mom tackles him with a hug. After we all say our goodbyes, Zane and I get in my car.
“Your parents are very friendly,” he says as I pull out of the driveway.