The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(56)

“He won’t miss it. He’s too busy entertaining guests.” She lifted her cup in his direction from the bottom of the steps. Pink sweater and her friend had cozied up to him as he shut down the grill.

“Finally! People have been trying to steal these.” Berk rounded the grill as LJ’s head popped up and his gaze shot to Marisa. He jumped back from the girls like they’d become radioactive.

“Here you are, my lady. Your burger awaits.” Berk handed us plates with burgers oozing with loads of cheese.

My stomach growled and rumbled. Even over the ungodly loud party inside, everyone’s eyes widened at the kraken awakening in my stomach. Reece let go of me and I took a bite of the burger—juicy and delicious, just like a burger should be. I finished it in record time, leaving Berk in my dust. He threw his burger down onto his plate as I licked the last bit of ketchup off my thumb.

“You really know how to give a guy a complex.” He picked up the juicy patty sandwiched within a potato bun and stared at it like it had betrayed him.

“Next time, I’ll let you win.”

“It’s not the same.”

I pouted like a kid finding only clothes under the Christmas tree. Sighing, he took another bite.

“Only two more games this season—you ready man?” LJ squeezed Reece’s shoulder.

He stiffened beside me. “I’m ready, but my parents are bummed I’ll miss Thanksgiving. At least the hotels are usually pretty good about having enough food on hand for a ravenous bunch of football players.”

“Thanksgiving in Boston,” Berk grumbled.

“The game’s in Boston?” My head shot up and I wiped my mouth with a napkin.

Reece’s fingers crumpled the edge of his paper plate and he exchanged a look with Berk.

“Why didn’t you tell me the game was in Boston?” I turned to face him. Berk rushed off as Reece shot an intense glare at his retreating figure.

He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you’d have mentioned it.”

“I thought you’d see it on the schedule. It’s not like it’s a state secret or anything.” He shrugged, and I felt a small sting. “We’re there for a game and we fly out the next day. It’s not like we have time to see anyone or meet up with people.” He took a gulp from his cup like he hadn’t had a drink in years. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Did you not tell me to make sure I didn’t invite you to meet my family?”

“No.” It was the least convincing no in the history of nos. He’d asked me if I’d watch his other games, but he hadn’t mentioned this one. I’d thought he figured it was over Thanksgiving and didn’t want to put that extra burden on me, but now it seemed he hadn’t wanted me to realize he was in Boston.

“I met your family.” Maybe I had been wrong. We weren’t dating. We were sleeping together, killing our time until we both left. I’d known that was the case but had thought maybe things had changed over the past week or so. The stinging pain spread, seeping deeper into my heart.

“It wasn’t planned.”

“So if your mom hadn’t spotted us on the bridge, you wouldn’t have had me meet her?” The easy acceptance from Mary and John and the rest of the family felt hollower. I’d probably never see them again.

“Did you plan on meeting my parents? You wanted to have sex with me, put a check next to that line on your list, and move on.” He slammed his food down.

“Things changed.”

“Yes, they did.” He dragged his hands through his hair. “You’re a genius, Seph.” His shoulders sagged and he peered over at me.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Your parents are also crazy smart.”

“Again, why would that make you not want to meet them?”

“Because they’ll take one look at me and know I’m a jock nowhere near on your level.”

Relief washed over me and my lips curved up into a small smile. “You’re nervous?” The sadness radiating off him stifled that relief.

“Of course—who wouldn’t be?” He stared down at the ground.

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tighter. Damn, he sure knew how to make himself even more endearing and adorable. “You don’t need to worry about that. They’ll love you.” At least Mom will. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

He pulled back and stared into my eyes, running his knuckles along my chin. “Really?”

I breathed past the churning knot. “Really.”





*



I’d flown up to Boston on the ticket my dad had bought me. Of course, it was the earliest ticket in. The sterile quiet of my house didn’t make it feel like the home I’d once lived in. It felt like I was a guest even after two days back. I checked the score on my phone. They were heading into the last quarter. The game had started late because of the weather. There’d been a break in the snow, but Reece would be over an hour late as it was.

“Persephone.”

I dropped my hand under my desk and turned off the screen so the light didn’t give me away.

“Yes, Dad.”

He stood in the doorway to my room like a harbinger of bad memories. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. You should get yourself ready.” He looked me up and down, and I had to stop myself from cringing. I kept my chin raised. Apparently my cream tights, navy skirt, and cream sweater weren’t a dead giveaway I was ready and had gotten myself together over the last hour. My hair was braided tightly against my head in a way I hadn’t done in a while. Never a hair out of place or a stray piece of lint, but no matter what I did, he’d find a reason to pick, to try to make me feel smaller.