And he’s letting me in more. At least, it seems like he wants to. He invited me to come to his place tonight, which I think means meeting his parents. I mean, I know he lives with his folks, so it’s likely they’ll be here.
The door swings open and Jesse stands there in his Yankees hoodie, a grin on his mouth. “Hey.” He leans in to peck me on the cheek before stepping aside, and I enter the foyer of the townhouse with wide eyes.
Holy crap, this place isnice. I should have known that, given the red brick façade and beautiful tree-lined street, but inside it’s like another level. The historic building has been completely redone, the interior clean and modern, with bright white walls and dark stained floors. I follow Jesse through to an immaculate kitchen, lined with glossy white cabinets, and a huge marble island in the center. I think of the barely one-and-a-half-bedroom apartment Denise and I share, and grimace, knowing I’ll never take Jesse there asthisis where he comes from.
“Nice place,” I murmur.
He shrugs. “It’s okay. My mom redecorated it before…” he trails off and shoves his head into the fridge, then retreats, brandishing two beer bottles. “This okay? Or there’s probably some wine somewhere. I know my dad drinks it.”
“This is great, thanks.”
He pops the tops off the beer and hands a bottle to me, then motions for me to follow him into the next room. It’s a livingroom with a huge black leather sectional facing a giant flat-screen TV.
“Whoa, that’s massive,” I say, and Jesse shrugs again.
“I don’t spend much time down here. Usually, my dad is home, getting on my case about something, so I go to my room. I have the whole top floor to myself.”
I glance around the quiet house. “Where’s your dad now?” I must admit, I’m relieved his parents don’t seem to be home. Meeting the folks is a big step, and if I’m honest, I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet, especially since Jesse has made it clear he doesn’t get along with his father.
“He’s got a late meeting,” Jesse assures me. I’m about to ask where his mom is when he adds, “We’ll have the place to ourselves for a few hours. I figured that would be better.”
That same nervous sensation ripples through me and I swallow, unsure what he’s expecting tonight. Hesitation tugs at me when I think about sleeping with him. I know we’ve been dating for three months, but shouldn’t I be feeling something… more? Excitement, maybe? Or love? Is it ridiculous to admit that I’d like to fall in love before having sex? It feels so old-fashioned, but as Jesse takes my hand and leads me to the sofa, I realize that I’m not prepared to do this with just any cute guy. I’ve waited this long, and that makes it feel even more important.
Jesse places his beer on a side table and turns to me with a smile. Is he someone I could fall in love with?
I shake the thought off, irritated with myself. It’s only been a few months, for God’s sake. Maybe I’m not in love with him now, but if I give it time, I’m sure I could be. He’s sweet and cute and funny, and he’s been nothing but a gentleman since I told him how inexperienced I am. What more could I ask for? I simply need to be honest with him.
I take a sip from my beer and set it carefully on a coaster on the coffee table. “So, listen. I’m not ready to have sex tonight.”
“Oh.” Jesse’s brow dips. “Right, of course.” He slides closer to me on the couch, smiling gently. “I guess I can wait some more.”
I tilt my head. “You’re okay with that?”
“I… yeah.” He lifts my hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss across the back of it. “I like you, Daisy. A lot. I think this could really go somewhere.”
Whoa. Okay.
See?I reassure myself.You’ve made a good choice with this one.
“I’m glad,” I whisper, sliding closer still. Then I lean in and press my mouth to his. He responds by wrapping an arm around my back and tugging me into him, and I raise a hand to touch his cheek.
The sound of a throat clearing behind us makes me jump, and I lurch away from Jesse, spinning around to see who’s there.
My gaze lands on a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and three-day scruff on his sharp jaw. When his ocean-blue eyes lock with mine, my stomach falls through the floor.
Weston?
I spring up from the sofa, confused. “Hi,” I say, wiping a hand across my mouth. Heat sears my cheeks. “What… what are you doing here?”
“I live here.” His gaze moves from me to Jesse, then back again. “And you must be…”
Beside me, Jesse rises to his feet with a sigh of resignation. “This is my girlfriend, Daisy.”
A muscle tics in Weston’s jaw.
“Daisy, this is my dad.”
Oh,no. Weston is Jesse’sdad?Jesseis the son Weston was talking about?
