Page 100 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
It lasted far too short. I could still feel it lingering, buzzing on my lips, and I forced them into a polite, innocent smile as we pulled away.
“Hey there sweetheart,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear.
Screw it.I stole another quick kiss.
Parents or no parents, I was thrilled that he was here.
Chapter 23
Icould hear footsteps shuffling out of the kitchen, which meant time for stolen affections with my boyfriend was coming to an end. As much as I wanted to pull him into bed with me and have my weak, recovering self fall asleep wrapped in his arms, I knew we both needed to be on our best behavior. My parents already had reservations about Devin; their first impressions of him shouldn’t be a bunch of PDA.
“Hello there!” My mom’s squeaky voice had returned, and like any Greek mother, she immediately swept him into a crushing hug. Devin smiled and laughed, but I could see him wince as she squeezed him a bit too tight.
With Devin now standing under the bright hallway lights, I managed to get a full glance at his appearance. The differences were subtle. He’d taken his piercings out, leaving just tiny holes in his earlobes and below his lips. He wore a long-sleeved, cream-colored shirt that fully covered his tattoos. It was the first time I’d ever seen him wear clothing that wasn’t dark grey or black. Instead of his usual darkskinny jeans, he wore a pair of plain denim ones, and his black Converses were replaced with scuffed white sneakers.
My mother continued fussing over him, her high-pitched words a blur in my ears as Devin took off his shoes and followed her down the hallway. My father was still standing in the kitchen, having not budged an inch since Devin arrived. He didn’t scowl as much as usual, but I noticed that he was eyeing Devin up and down like a steer at an auction. Seeking out any perceived flaws or imperfections. Trying to come up with reasons to not approve of him.
“It smells fantastic in here.” Devin smiled as he took a seat at the dinette. My father’s eyes remained locked on him, but Devin either didn’t notice or pretended not to. He wore the same cheery, oblivious expression he’d had at the game shop.
“Why, thank you!” My mother beamed as she slipped her oven mitts on and pulled a tray out of the oven. “Did Avery tell you my parents are from Greece?”
“Yes, she did. She took me to a Greek restaurant on our first date.”
“Oh, how lovely! Was it the one you sent the food from?”
“Yes. Avery told me it’s her favorite.”
“Thank you so much for that, by the way. It was very generous of you.”
“Of course. I figured all of you would be exhausted and in need of an easy meal.”
The whole time Devin and my mom were engaged in conversation, I noticed he was looking at me. He had that adoring sparkle in his eyes, the look he reserved only for me, and I think my mom noticed. My father, on the other hand, remained still as a statue, the steaming coffee mug pressed to his lips still hiding his facial expression.
Well, at least Devin is winning my mother over.
It was funny how with Devin’s piercings gone, tattoos covered up, and lack of all-black clothing, he looked like someone my dad would normally approve of. It made me wonder what Devin was like in his early adulthood, back when he was still with his family and heavily involved in the church.
But the more I studied Devin’s newly clean-cut appearance, the more I hated it. This wasn’t him. I knew he wanted to make a good first impression, but he shouldn’t have to hide who he was just to gain my uppity parents’ approval.
“Well, the moussaka needs some time to cool, but we can start on the salad,” my mother announced, placing a huge glass bowl in the center of the table. The salad was stuffed with peppers, feta cheese, and olives, and I could smell the vinegar and spices from the homemade dressing in the pitcher next to it.
I missed my mother’s cooking.
“So, Devin,” my mother continued as she placed four small bowls on the table. “tell us about yourself.”
I let out a sharp exhale. I knew it was a typical question that parents asked their childrens’ partners, but it was such an impossibly broad one. There were parts of Devin’s life that he didn’t like to talk about, and I knew that having to cobble together a pleasant enough answer was like sitting in a job interview.
“Well.” Devin paused, taking a moment to scoop salad into his bowl. I could tell he was using the opportunity to think about how he wanted to answer. “As I’m sure you noticed on Sunday, I run the local game shop down the street.”
“You own it?”
“Yes, ma’am. For the past seven years.”
“Wow, that’s certainly impressive! And that’s where you have all yourCreatures & Coinsevents?”
Across the table, I saw my father’s facetwitch.
“Creatures & Crypts, but yes,” Devin continued. “I have some relief staff during the week, but other than that I’m a one-man show. It’s a lot of bookkeeping, which isn’t too exciting, but my Sundays are my favorite since that’s when I run the children’sC&Cgroup.”
