coffee though.” He starts to laugh again. “Can’t believe I’m gonna be in an art show.” He finally hands my phone back to me.
“Might be,” I correct. “Sorry for not asking permission or anything.”
“Well, this is me giving my blessing for you to put it in the show.” He runs a hand along the top of his hair. “It’s fantastic. Thank you, Ben.”
“You’re welcome.” I’m trying not to blush, but I can feel my face going hot despite the chill of the air.
At first, I don’t even hear the car pulling into the driveway, but Nathan perks up, and there’s the distinct sound of car doors closing. “My parents are home.”
“Oh.” I glance around, as if they’d somehow magically appear on the roof.
“Do you want to meet them?”
I shrug. “I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Nathan stands up and peers over the edge of the roof into the backyard. “That’s a hefty drop, so … I’m thinking no.” Nathan offers me his hand again and helps me stand up. “They’re cool, I swear.”
“Okay.”
This isn’t really how I was planning on meeting Nathan’s parents. I’d imagined about a dozen different awkward encounters where I’d either call them by the wrong name, or not say my own right, or call them Mom and Dad by accident.
We walk back across the roof to his room. I almost fall again when I try to step through. At least this time the chances of falling tragically to my death are minimal. But Nathan catches me in his arms.
He’s really warm, and for a split second I can smell his sort of terrible cologne and his deodorant. I think that’s lime. It probably shouldn’t make for a good combination, but right now, it smells so good.
Oh, shit.
“Thank you.” I try to smile off everything and pull myself as far as I can.
“No problem.” He lets go of me slowly, his hands lingering just a little too long. No, wait. Stop, I’m being creepy again. “Hey, what if you stayed for dinner?”
“Um, sure. I don’t think Hannah would mind.”
“Nathan?” a voice shouts from below. “You home?”
“Yeah, be down in a second!” Nathan yells back, then he looks at me, holding out his hand. “Ready to go?”
I take it, slowly, and let him lead me out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
“So you’re Ben.” Nathan’s mother takes my hand, shaking it quickly. “I’m Joyce, and this is my husband, Robert. It’s nice to finally meet you. Nathan speaks very highly.” She winks, and I don’t know what that’s supposed to imply, but I don’t question it.
“He does?” I ask.
“Oh, here and there,” she says.
While he packs groceries into the refrigerator, Nathan’s dad says, “And every night at dinner, and before he goes to bed, and at breakfast.”
I turn to Nathan, who’s currently seated at the counter with his face buried in his hands, and God he’s so cute right now.
“I do not talk about him 24/7!” he argues.
“He’s right.” Mr. Allan folds up the leftover plastic bags and slips them into a small container under the sink. “He has to sleep sometime.”
“Oh, hardy har har.” Nathan rolls his eyes. Then he mouths Sorry. But I’m too busy laughing.
“So, Ben, did you want to join us for dinner?” Mrs. Allan asks.
“Um, sure,” I say. “If y’all don’t mind, that is.”
“Of course not!” Mrs. Allan leans against the counter. “We were just going to do pizza, if that’s okay with you? I’m too beat to cook tonight, work was a nightmare.”
I shrug. “I’m good with whatever.”
“Any dietary things I should know about? No meat, no cheese?”
“No, really, I’m good.”
“So, what have you boys been up to?” Mr. Allan asks. It doesn’t really sound accusatory, but there’s still that worry. Like what if they think we were fooling around upstairs or something?
“Just hanging out. I took him up to the roof.”
I’m actually kind of surprised Nathan doesn’t cover, like say we were studying or something. Nope. We were on the roof, meaning we had to be in his room before we were there. Totally alone, without any parental supervision.
“Oh, lord.” Mrs. Allan chuckles. “You mean you weren’t completely terrified?” she asks me.
“No.” I almost say wasn’t my first time, but I feel like that would be counterproductive. “I was at first, but it’s not so bad.”
“I do wish he’d quit doing that,” Mrs. Allan mutters. “Scares me half to death knowing he’s up there.”
“It’s not that dangerous,” Nathan says. “And I’m careful.”
“I know, I know.” Mrs. Allan