Page 102 of Caught Looking

He moved back up until we were eye to eye. “Who sleeps next to you at night?”

“You,” I breathed out. The intensity in Seth’s eyes was…wow.

“Who is your first phone call after a game?”

“You.”

“Who cheers loudest?”

“You.”

“I didn’t hear you say anyone else’s name. So they don’t matter.” He snaked one arm under the small of my back and tilted my hips. “Grab a condom, babe. You were right and I was wrong. The only two people who matter in the whole world are you and me. So let’s remind ourselves what that means.”

I hesitated for a second, then I reached for the nightstand and got a condom.

* * *

The private roomgave us a chance to mingle while eating from the buffet, but it was still more awkward than I would have liked considering I wanted our families to get along.

But they were night and day. Seth’s parents were loud and boisterous. They touched and hugged. They demanded what they wanted from the waitress while still being kind. My parents were quiet. Stiff. Uncomfortable with all the noise.

How had they endured my years as a baby? It baffled me.

“Are you all right?” My mother almost whispered as she touched my arm. Her hair was in the same bob that she’d had since I could remember. The only difference was over the years her hair had been slowly lightened to mix in the grays until they turned white. Her wardrobe never changed either. A simple short-sleeved blouse that buttoned down the front with coordinating pleated slacks and comfortable shoes. As a child I thought her simplicity was smart. Efficient. As an adult I found it boring.

Which was why I loved playing for the Tangerines. My entire wardrobe was splashed with the bright shade of orange. Today I wore my favorite pair of tangerine-colored shorts, a white tank top (no bra, just the way Seth liked it) and matching oversized tangerine blazer. It was comfortable and bright.

I looked like a highlighter next to my mother’s sage green and khaki.

“Did you hate me as a baby?”

My mother blinked, her jaw fell open. “What? No! Why would you ask that?”

“Because you hate noise and babies are loud.”

Her face softened into a smile. “Not you. You were a quiet baby, thank goodness. And we had Carla.”

“Who is Carla?” And why had I never heard that name before?

“She was your nanny.”

“I had a nanny?” This was brand new information. Which shouldn’t have surprised me. My parents were also efficient. They never shared more than absolutely necessary.

“Of course you had a nanny! Your father and I both worked full time jobs. Who do you think took care of you?”

“I never really thought about it and you never shared. Are there pictures of her?”

Mom made a face. “Why would we have pictures of your nanny?”

Sometimes it was like my parents were aliens. I swear we didn’t share DNA. But I looked exactly like someone cloned my mother, tossed in a few of my dad’s features, and then colored inside the lines.

“What are you two talking about?” Dad came to Mom’s side.

“Annalise doesn’t remember Carla.”

Dad made a face as he thought. “The nanny? Why would she remember the nanny? She was a baby.”

And this was why I didn’t have long conversations with my parents. They were pointless. I glanced across the room at Seth. He looked just as uncomfortable as his dad rambled about how the football season should be longer considering how much everyone was paid.

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