I was about to meet her family, I realized. As I got out of the car, I glanced down at myself. I’d chosen dark blue jeans, a thin jacket, and a clean grey shirt. Did I look okay? Did I look like someone a girl would want to introduce to her family? I had no idea.
I’d had girlfriends before, a few, but it’d been a little while, if I was honest. Though, even with those past girlfriends in the picture, I couldn’t say whether or not I’d ever wanted to date someone as badly as I wanted Bree. She had somehow built her own altar inside my head, and I couldn’t stop her.
Well, it was too late now to turn around and change. I was here, so I had to suck it up and meet her family while looking like a loser.
Not sure what I would’ve worn, but whatever. Maybe it was time for me to go shopping and buy some new clothes. Dress to impress and all that.
My palms were sweaty as I headed up to the front porch, going to the front door. I rang the bell, waiting for someone to answer the door. Hopefully Bree. Hopefully she could introduce me to her family, and I wouldn’t be thrust into meeting some stranger immediately.
Thankfully, it was Bree’s pink head that I saw first, her small frame that greeted me as she opened the door. “Hey,” she said, sounding just like she did yesterday.
God, had it only been twenty-four hours? Felt like forever since I’d seen her.
That was crazy, I knew, but I also knew that meant I had it bad for her. I had it bad for Bree, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she felt anything for me. She seemed like she had her walls up, but fortunately for her, if I was anything, it was persistent.
“Hi,” I said, grinning immediately the moment I saw her. For a few moments, we stood there, staring at each other, neither one of us making any moves or saying anything else.
I saw an older woman walk by, her blonde hair pinned to the back of her head with a clip. “Oh, let the poor boy in, Bree. Don’t make him stand out there all afternoon.” Judging by her age and the tone of her voice, I knew she had to be Bree’s mother.
Bree’s cheeks reddened a bit, and her eyes fell to her feet. “Come in,” she said, the words coming out as tiny, unconfident squeaks. She stepped aside, letting me in. “That’s my mom,” she said, gesturing toward the blonde woman who’d just walked into the kitchen.
I went to shake her hand, not knowing what else to do. “Mason.”
As Bree closed the front door, her mother gave me a smile. It was very reminiscent of the smile I’d seen on Bree’s face every now and then. “Good to meet you, Mason.”
Bree led me into the living room, where an older man sat reading something on an iPad. He had glasses on, and he was still holding the iPad an arm’s distance away, squinting a bit. Typical dad behavior, if I ever saw some.
“Dad,” Bree said, causing the man on the chair to set down the iPad and look at us, “this is Mason. We’re working on a group project together.”
“Hello, sir,” I said, offering him my hand.
He took it, but he quickly went back to his iPad, not saying anything.
I glanced to Bree, wondering if I did something wrong, but she said nothing, only turning to lead me up the stairs. I followed her like a puppy, watching the way she walked as she took the stairs. Today she wore another oversized sweater, no beanie on the top of her head. Dark grey leggings clung to her bottom half, and since I was behind her on the stairs, I could see the bottom curve of her ass as she took the steps ahead of me.
Don’t ogle her ass, I told myself. If there was one place in this world I should not act like a creep, it was here, in her house, where her father could kick my ass. Not that I thought he would—plus, he wasn’t a very intimidating guy. Kind of thin and nerdy, but that was beside the point.
I wasn’t a creep. I just, you know, liked her ass.
Bree was about to turn into the first bedroom on the left, but another girl popped out of the room, nearly knocking herself into Bree. A tall, slender blonde who honestly looked nothing like Bree. Her hair was straightened, makeup lining every inch of her face. She was pretty, but I only had eyes for the pink-haired one.
“Michelle,” Bree mumbled, not looking happy. Her sister?
“Yes, that’s right,” she said, puffing herself up as she eyed me up and down. I suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, like I was some cow at the county fair being judged. Hmm. Maybe a cow wasn’t the best animal to use. “I’m her sister, and while she might be quiet and nice, I’m not, so keep that in mind, Mason.” She said nothing else, purposefully bumping shoulders with me as she walked across the hall, I assumed into her own room.
Bree met eyes with me, apologetic. “I’m sorry about her. She’s…protective of me.” She disappeared into her room, and I followed her.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Older siblings usually are.”
She stopped and looked at me, and then she said something that made me feel like a huge idiot: “I’m the older one.”
Oh. Right. Had to be all the makeup on her sister’s face, making her look older. Well, call me stupid.
“Sorry,” I said, glancing around her room as she went to close the door. It was…a very boring room, honestly. Hardly any decorations, and only small watercolors hanging on the
