Bliss by Kaylee Ryan Page 0,41

won’t be able to keep quiet. Say the word, and we bail.”

“Word.” I reach for my seat belt and strap back in, making her laugh. “I was kidding.”

“It’s going to be fine.” I don’t think she’s nervous about seeing them as much as she’s nervous that they know we’re… whatever it is we are right now. In my eyes, we’re together. Reese still isn’t putting a label on it, but we’re exclusive, and our families know that.

“They’re going to ask us what’s going on.”

“And I’ll tell them that I’m madly in love with you and that as best friends, we’re learning each other in a new capacity, and that it’s our business. We’ll include them when it’s time.”

“Wow, that sounds practiced.”

“I knew this was going to be a concern for you.”

“She’s looking out the window,” she says, nodding toward my parents’ place.

“So is yours.” I give the same nod to her parents’ place.

“Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” She reaches for her handle, and before I can stop her to tell her I’ll get the door, she’s out of the car. It’s probably for the best. That would just fuel our mothers on even more.

I follow her up the steps, and she stops at the door. “Go on in, babe. You never had to knock before,” I say, placing my hand on the small of her back.

“It’s different now.”

“No, it’s not different. It’s better. This time when you walk into this house, it’s not as my best friend, but as the love of my life. My future. Now, more than any time before, you belong here and don’t need to knock. You’re family. My family,” I tell her. She smiles up at me, and that’s how my mother finds us when she opens the door.

“Oh, look at you two. I missed you kids something awful,” she says, pulling first Reese and then me into a hug.

“Mom, it hasn’t even been two months since we saw you last.”

“That’s too long. Come on in. Dad’s in the living room.”

Dutifully, we follow her inside. Dad is in his recliner. “Welcome home.” He smiles, turning off the television.

“Sit, sit.” Mom points to the loveseat. We sit next to one another, and a glance at my mother tells me she’s still beaming. “How are you? What’s been going on?”

“Good. I’ve been enjoying some time off,” I tell her.

“Reese, how’s work?”

“Really good.” She nods. “Stressful at times, but it’s good.”

“We’re so proud of the two of you.” Mom smiles.

Reading between the lines, she’s also proud that we’re together. She’s not going to say it, but that’s exactly what she’s thinking. “What about the two of you? How are things?” I ask, leaning back into the loveseat.

“Oh, you know, same old. Snotty noses and potty breaks.” Mom laughs. “The life of a kindergarten teacher.”

“Dad? How’s work?” He’s a factory worker, been there since the week he graduated from high school.

“Doing well. We got a new line in at work, so I’ve been working some extra hours while we all get trained. Hey, while you’re here, I got something I need some help with. You got a minute?” he asks.

“Sure.” He stands, so I glance over at Reese. “You good, babe?” I ask, keeping my voice low, but I know my mother. Her hearing is impeccable, so I know she heard me.

“Of course.” She smiles, but it’s tight.

I can tell she’s nervous. I want to lean in and kiss the stress right out of her, but pissing her off is not on the top of my list of things to do today. Instead, I wink and stand to follow Dad out to the garage.

“All right, old man, put me to work.” I clap my hands and rub them together.

“I didn’t really need any help,” my dad confesses.

“Then why in the hell are we hanging out in the garage?” I was kidding when I called him an old man. He still has plenty of good years left, but now I’m starting to wonder. “You going senile on me?” I joke, only half kidding.

“Because I want to know how things are going?”

“Good. It’s the off-season, so I’m just hanging out.”

“Not that.” He waves his hand in the air. “With Reese. How are things with Reese?”

“Did Mom put you up to this?” I question.

“No. Why would you think that? Never mind. So, how’s it going?”

“Since when do you gossip?” I ask.

“Since my son started dating my best friend’s daughter. A girl I’ve thought of as my own for over