Page 33 of Loved

Me too.I took another deep breath. Penny wasn’t pregnant. I needed to calm down. Penny needed me right now. Because her parents were probably going to be just as upset about our actual news.

"So what do you do, James?" Mr. Taylor asked. "Are you in vocational school or something?"

Vocational school? The only thing I knew how to fix was computers.

"He's actually done school, Dad. He graduated a few years ago. Several actually. He's 27."

"Oh?" her mom said. She glanced at her husband and then back at us. "Well, that's quite an age difference."

I swallowed hard. It wasn’tthatbig of an age difference. We were all silent for a second. The disapproval almost seemed palpable. Most of the professors at the University of New Castle were well into their 50s. This could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Penny’s father was frowning. "So that brings me back to my original question. If you're no longer a student, what is it that you do for a living, James? And why on earth are you dating a teenager?"

Because I’m a sick fuck.

"Dad, I just turned 20."

Her parents did not seem to care about that rebuttal.

"Well." I shifted in my seat.Fuck, what the hell do I say to him?He’d already made up his mind about me. I was pretty sure he had when we first met and he kept giving the Eagles’ players weird names. He’d already been fucking with me then.

Breathe.Well, her father didn’t look like he could hate me any more than he already did. And if Penny wasn’t going to tell them I was her professor, I just needed to do it. As fast as possible. "This is not going to sound great. But I want you both to know that I love your daughter very much."

Shit, now I was stalling. I shifted in my seat again. "I actually resigned from my current position this morning," I continued. "But before that, I had a job at the University of New Castle." I paused and stared at them. They understood, right? Her father was staring at me like he understood. Or did he just look confused?Fuck me.I was usually good under pressure. But it was different when Iwanted them to like me. And there was no way they’d like me once I said the words out loud.

"He's my professor," Penny finally blurted out.

I froze.

Penny’s parents froze.

And then her mom burst out laughing.

Her dad quickly started laughing too.

What was happening right now?

I turned to Penny. She looked just as confused as me. I shrugged. I’d expected cursing and for her father to throw a punch. Definitely not laughter.

"I don't know what you've done to Penny," her mom said between bouts of laughter. "Because she never pulls pranks on us. Well done. You both had us going."

I clenched my jaw. They thought we were joking?

"She can't even pull an April Fool's Day prank," her dad added. "That was hilarious!"

I never in a million years expected them to have this reaction. But I guess it made sense that they thought we were joking. Penny had never even had a boyfriend before. Jumping from no boyfriend to fucking her professor was a big leap for someone who didn’t usually break the rules.

"Mom, Dad." Penny’s voice caught in her throat. "We're not joking. You said it yourself, I don't know how to play pranks. It's not even April Fool's Day."

"Of course you're joking," her mom quickly said. "The age difference? Your professor? It's not even believable. It's ridiculous. It's absolutely ridiculous."

It wasn’tthatridiculous. I clenched my jaw even harder. No, I didn’t expect this reaction at all. And I really didn’t like it. My profession or my age didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I loved Penny. And it was like they were laughing at our relationship.

"James is my Comm professor,” Penny said. “Wasmy Comm professor, I mean."

"You're joking. You are, right?” Her mom suddenly looked pale.She looked over at me and frowned, as if seeing me for the first time.

I was clearly older than her daughter. And like Penny said…I was dressed professorly today. I wanted to laugh at the made-up word, but I just clenched my jaw even tighter as Mrs. Taylor stared at me. So much for Penny’s mom liking me.

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