Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)(40)

“Is his dick pierced?” Peck asks. “Sam’s is. Just curious.”

“No, he’s not pierced.”

“Was he fun?” Star sits forward, suddenly getting into it.

“Fun how?” I ask.

“Was he all, like, serious? Or was he funny?”

“He kind of…cried a little.” I wince. “After I did, and not as much as I did. But still.”

Finny flops back. “He cried? Seriously, I would have punched him in the balls.”

“Well, he didn’t sob, but he did get all teary-eyed one time.”

“Was he good to you?” Star asks quietly.

“Very. I don’t think it could have been any better.” I look down at my watch. “Oh, crap. I have to go and get ready. I’m meeting his mother.”

Finny frowns. “Why are you meeting his mother?”

I shrug. “It’s her birthday. There’s a party and he asked me to go with him.” I look at all their faces. “Why? What’s wrong with that?”

Finny’s brow furrows. “Didn’t you just start dating?”

“Yes.”

“And you just had sex last night?”

“Yes.”

“And you haven’t made any promises to one another. No secret elopement or anything.”

“No.”

“Then why the f*ck are you meeting his mother already?”

“Because he invited me. I think it’s nice.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s not creepy.”

“It is. I think you should cancel and just go back to his place and bang his brains out instead.”

“I am not going to cancel.” I get up. “I want to meet his family. I already met his brother Mick.”

“What are you going to wear?” Star asks.

“It’s a cookout. Can you pick something out for me?” I put my hands together like I’m praying.

Star gets up and goes to my closet and I follow her.

“Shut the door, will you?” she asks.

I close the door. “What’s up?”

She sits down on the edge of my bed. “I’m really worried about Wren.”

“I know. I am too.”

“What do you think she’ll do?”

“Honestly, I think she’s undecided.”

“Okay.” She gets up and starts to rummage through my closet. “She didn’t tell me ahead of time. She made me wait until she told everyone else.”

Star and Wren have always been the closest of the five of us, since they’re the only ones who are natural-born sisters. “She’s probably still in shock. I’m surprised she told anyone.”

“I’m pregnant,” she says, as she holds a hand over her baby.

“I know.”

“I don’t like that she has to decide between abortion and having it.”

“I know. I think that’s probably why she told you all this way.”

“When I found out I was pregnant, it was the best day of my life.”

“That’s because you have a husband who supports you and will love that baby to pieces. She’s alone in this.”

“She’s not alone.”

“She is. Where it matters.”

“Okay,” Star says softly. She pulls a pair of jeans and a paisley shirt out of my closet. “Wear this. With your rhinestone sandals.” She points to the bathroom. “Go shower. I’ll fix your hair.”

I sigh and go to Star. I lay a hand on her belly and feel the firm bump beneath my palm. “Wren’s going to be okay,” I tell her.

“I know,” she says, covering my hand with hers. “I just worry.” She grabs my face and presses a sloppy kiss to my cheek with a loud smack. “Go shower. You smell like a man.”

I laugh and go do as she says.

She calls to me as I go into the bathroom. “Hey, Lark.”

I look back. “Yeah?”

She grins. “So how big is his dick?”

I laugh out loud. “Huge. Like porn-star standard.”

She chuckles. “Figures. It’s always the skinny guys with the biggest dicks.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m primped and ready. I tell them all goodbye as they wish me luck, grab the box of cookies Marta made for me to take with me to the party, and I go to the corner and get a bouquet of pretty flowers for Ryan’s mom. Then I take a deep breath and get in the car to go pick up Ryan.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to meet his parents. Parents who probably won’t like me just because I’m not deaf.

I text Ryan before we get there, so that he’s standing on the sidewalk when the car arrives. He doesn’t wait for the driver to open the door for him, he just opens the door and slides in. He’s wearing a sweater the color of plums that’s tight across his broad shoulders but folds at the waist, and a pair of worn blue jeans. The smell of his subtle cologne washes over me as he pulls me close and kisses me.

“I missed you,” he says.

I look down at the watch I’m not wearing. “For all of two hours?”

“I missed you the first minute.” He grins and kisses me again, and my heart does that flip-flop thing it does whenever he looks at me like that. “And the second. And the third.”