Tell Me It's Real (At First Sight 1) - Page 13

“Well, even if we weren’t, we’d still love you to pieces,” Mom said. “We know you’re shy, Paul, and maybe you’ll always be like that. But one day, someone is going to come along and sweep you off your feet and it will be like magic. You’ll open up like a blushing, virgin flower filled with rainbows and sprinkles”

“Rainbows and sprinkles,” my father agreed. “The most sprinkliest virgin flower ever.”

“I love you guys,” I told them honestly, even if they were batshit insane.

“We know, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Feel better?”

“Yeah. A bit.” And I did. Dog-vomit eating and all.

“Good, because Sandy is sitting in your driveway, waiting for us to make you not mad

at him anymore.”

I groaned. “You set me up!”

“And it was surprisingly easy.” Dad laughed. “Geez. I don’t know how you weren’t kidnapped as a child by a stranger who offered you candy. You’re so gullible.”

“Lawrence,” my mother admonished. “What terrible thing to say. Accurate, but terrible. Now, Paul, are you done being mad at Sandy?”

“I guess,” I allowed.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” my dad asked. “He’s already like one of the family. It’d just be so perfect! And then you two would be married and your mother could borrow that one outfit he wears that has the tail….”

“Larry!” my mother shouted, but even I could hear the smile in her voice.

I tried to scrub that image from my head, but it worked its way in. It’s a weird kinky pony-play outfit he found at some sex shop that he wears when he does Marilyn Manson at the club. It’s scary, but a little hot. “We’re not like that,” I told them. “Sandy and I are best friends. Like brothers. We tried it once, but it was just too weird. Not our thing. I love him, but not that way.”

“It’d be easy, though, right?” Dad asked.

“Oh, Larry,” my mother sighed. “Love is never easy.”

Oh gross. Not this kind of conversation again. You’d swear there were three people on the phone with a uterus instead of one. “And on that note, I gotta go. Sandy, and all.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “Don’t forget next weekend going to Nana’s for your birthday.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “There’s nothing greater for my self-esteem than to hear Johnny Depp call me a fanny-bandit.”

“That bird,” Mom said. I could hear the frown in her voice. “It needs therapy.”

“Is there bird therapy?” Dad asked, and I hung up gently, knowing that conversation would go on forever.

I thought I’d let Sandy suffer for a bit longer, but it was May, and it gets very hot very quickly in the desert. Part of me was vindictively gleeful at the thought of him sweating horribly, but then I realized he had air-conditioning in his car and he hates to sweat. “Guess who’s here,” I said to Wheels in a happy voice, getting him all riled up. “Guess who’s here! Is it your Uncle Sandy? Is it?” Wheels about shat himself when he heard the name Sandy. They’d bonded over a Milk-Bone and been soul mates ever since. The mutt pretty much hates everyone else. He’s very… picky about who he loves. Which, to be honest, was just a nice way of saying my dog is a jerk.

I opened the door, a little startled to see Sandy standing in the entryway. He eyed me warily. “You still mad?” he asked. “Because if you are, I brought you a breakfast burrito from Los Betos, which is your most favorite thing in the world.”

It was, but I wasn’t going to let him off that easy. I stared at him.

He sighed and went a bit further. “And I also brought Transformers on Blu-ray, because you don’t seem to own it for some reason.” He dangled it in front of me.

The man knew his way to forgiveness, especially through Michael Bay and burritos. I stood aside and let him through the door. He looked instantly relieved, and only then did I notice the bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept well. I wondered if it had to do with our fight, and I immediately felt like an ass. I placed a swift kiss on his cheek as he passed me by. I caught his small smile as I closed the door behind him.

“DO YOU even want to know his name?” he asked me an hour later, tucked into my arms on the couch, lying with his head on my chest.

“Who?” I asked, watching as Optimus Prime kicked some major digital ass.

“The guy from last night.”

I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to remain calm. I paused the movie and the house got eerily quiet. “You talked to him?”

Tags: T.J. Klune At First Sight Romance
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