Page 327 of His Virgin Romance Series

MILES

“So?” I asked. “Will you come with me?”

Zack paused. “You want me to come with me to your parents’ house?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Because your mother called up out of the blue and asked you to come over?”

“Yes.”

“Because… why?”

“Because apparently I have some stuff at the house that they need me to come and collect… or they’re just going to throw it away. She was very clear about that part.”

There was a pause.

“What?” I asked.

“Why didn’t you just tell her to throw it away?” Zack asked. “Why go there… you know they’re only going to give you grief.”

I sighed inwardly. I knew that much was true, but I guess I was just a sucker for grief. And at the end of the day, they were my parents. Could I really just ignore them to the point where I could forget about them altogether? Of course, I couldn’t. Experience had taught me that their decision to cut me off had affected me to my core. At the end of the day, I was still the same young kid who craved his parents’ approval.

“I just… want to see what they have there,” I said, lying smoothly because I didn’t want to admit to Zack my issues where my parents were concerned. “I mean… it could be important to me.”

“If it was, don’t you think you’d have collected it a long time ago?”

“Will you just go with me, man?” I asked impatiently. “My father’s always loved you.”

“Yeah, because I chose a sensible, stable career,” Zack said. “Because I wasn’t brave like you. I doubt your father would have given me the time of day if I’d gone with my first dream to become a carnival clown.”

I smiled. “To be honest, I might not have liked you much either if that were the case.”

“Rude.”

“I hate clowns.”

“I remember,” Zack laughed. “Okay, fine… do you need me to pick you up?”

“Yes, please,” I replied. “Can you be here in an hour?”

“Sure thing.”

He was a little late, but I didn’t care. Being early wouldn’t get me brownie points with my parents anyway. I slipped into the passenger seat and realized that he had worn dark trousers and a collared shirt and I realized he had dressed the way that my father liked. I cursed loudly and looked down at the cut off trousers and t-shirt I had opted to wear.

“What?” Zack asked.

“Of course you would dress like a professional, and I would dress like… a hobo.”

“Is that what hobo’s where these days?” Zack asked, in amusement. “Do you want to go back up and change?”

“No,” I said immediately. “Let’s go.”

It took us about half an hour to get to my parents’ neighborhood, and that was only because Zack drove like a maniac. I didn’t bother to tell him to slow down, at least his recklessness was distracting me from the impending visit. It had been a few years since I’d been to the house. As we drove up to the gate, Zack parked and undid his seatbelt, but I stayed where I was looking up the house.

We had moved to this particular house when I was thirteen years old, but it had never made me feel comfortable. It was too large and austere. And since Dad had been the one to handle the interior, it had ended up looking dark and austere on the inside too. He had chosen large chunky pieces of mahogany furniture that were old fashioned. Sometimes I felt like I was living in a different era when I walked through that house. From the looks of things, nothing much had changed.

“You okay?”

---