Page 78 of Raised On It

They say there’s a first time for everything.

I’ve had dinner with his parents several times now, and I really like them. But meeting Pops and Granny feels like I’m about to take a final exam or something.

What happens if I fail this test? His family is everything to him.

“What’s going on in that wicked smart head of yours?” Miles asks from the driver’s seat.

“Honestly?”

“Nah, lie to me and tell me you were having a wild sex fantasy about me.”

I slap away his hand now playfully making its way up my thigh. “Stop it, you heathen.”

He takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. “I may be a heathen, but I’m your heathen.”

“Yes, you are. But will you still be mine if your grandparents don’t approve? I know how important they are to you.”

“Is that what’s had you in your head all day?”

I shrug.

“Babe, they’re going to love you! You have nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do. Everyone who meets you falls head over boots for you, there’s not a thing about you not to love.”

“Head over boots, huh?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Seriously, though. What if?”

“Mason, you really need to stop worrying. Mom and Dad love you. The Crew love you. Hell, Mel the barber loves you. You’re really worrying over nothing.”

“I sure hope you’re right.”

“Besides, all they care about is whether I’m happy. And Mason…you make me very fucking happy.”

“Right back atcha, cowboy.”

“See, there’s nothing to worry about.”

By the time I hear the crunch of rocks under the truck's tires, his reassurances have settled me a bit, and I’ve found a sliver of my confidence as we begin our drive down a tree-lined gravel road. Trees so tall they had to have been here for decades shelter us from the hot sun leaving fantastical shadows all around us. Beyond the massive trees lining the small road are acres of endless green grass with more giant trees perfectly placed here and there, providing shadows of shade and adding to the beauty of the landscape. And at the end of the road sits the most perfect house.

The house is grand but not massive. A white two-story country house with black shutters, a dream-worthy wraparound porch, and the dark blue of a lake as its backdrop.

Breathtaking.

Magical.

“Miles, it’s beautiful. Are you sure we haven’t just driven right into a Nicholas Sparks novel?”

“Isn’t thatThe Notebookguy?”

“Yes, and about a hundred other novels set in romantic places just like this. How was this not on the tour?”

“Well, I took you to meet my parents, and that was pretty ballsy for so early on, don’t ya think?”

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