Page 30 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
His head shakes. “Not particularly, but your mother obviously does. If she thinks I’m doing that, she’s more likely to let you hang out alone with me.” He reaches for my hand and folds it into his, leaning close. “And I really want her to let you hang out alone with me.”
We drive for a few minutes in silence before I get up the nerve to ask something I’ve wanted to know for a while. It feels more important now that our relationship is becoming more physical. “Katie says you cheated on Lexie. That’s why you two broke up.”
There’s a long pause. “I did some stupid things.”
“How many stupid things did you do?”
“A lot.” I hear what sounds like his thumb drumming the steering wheel. “It was first semester freshman year. I got to college and it was, like, this girl smorgasbord. There were campus parties, and beer, and girls were everywhere. I’d never been in a situation where they would throw themselves at me and there was nothing stopping us from following through, so . . .”
“So you slept with them.”
It’s not a question, but he blows out a weary sigh. “Yeah.”
“I’ve seen you, Rick. I’m sure they’re still throwing themselves at you.”
“I’ve learned a few things in three years,” he says.
“Such as?”
A long pause. “Such as . . . it’s not working for me anymore. I want more than just sex. I want it to mean something.”
That hangs in the air between us for rest of the drive, keeping me from dwelling on the fact that I’m about to meet his parents. But when he walks me through the door, I’m shaking.
“Finally,” a voice says from off to our left. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
I glance that way as a slender guy Rick’s height stands from the couch. The annoying music to some video game shuts off and he crosses in front of us to the other side of the room.
“That was my little brother, Andy,” Rick says taking my hand and following in the direction his brother went. “Ignore him. He’s an ass.”
We turn a corner into a brightly lit kitchen and it takes my eye a second to adjust. There’s a woman in a blue top bustling around behind a large island in the center of the room, blond hair piled on top of her head.
“Rick, honey!” she says as she moves toward us. “This must be Rene.”
I fight not to drop my head as I reach for her outstretched hand. “Hi, Mrs. Hamilton.”
I see a flash of white in her face and know she’s smiling. What I can’t tell is how forced or fake it is. Is she staring at my scar?
“Call me Tammy,” she says, pumping my hand vigorously. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you! I’ve told Rick a hundred times to bring you home, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer this time.” I try to let go of her hand, but she holds tight, even when she says to Rick, “Your dad just got home from his golf game. He’ll be out as soon as he’s changed.”
Finally she lets go of my hand and Rick takes it.
“Something smells really good,” I say as he pulls me toward the island.
“We’re doing pizza,” Tammy says. “I’ve got the dough ready, but the rest is up to you.”
My mom would spoon-feed me if I let her, but Rick’s mom is going to make me make my own dinner. I immediately like her.
She moves to the fridge. “You can stretch your dough onto a pizza stone, and the sauce and toppings are all in these bowls or over on the cutting boards.”
“Don’t mess with mine,” Andy says from the table. “It’s in the top oven.”
“I’ve never made a pizza before,” I mutter to Rick.
“It’s a meal in progress,” Tammy says, then snorts at her own joke, and I can’t help but crack a smile, even though I don’t get it.
I wash my hands and Rick drops a ball of dough on my pizza stone. “The stones are twelve inches, so just stretch this into a circle.”
“Do I get to toss it?” I ask.
