Page 90 of So Not My Thing
I stopped at the foot of the stairs. “I don’t.”
“That’s not what I heard last night.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear last night. I thought I was alone.” I dropped a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not a big deal, but I need to get to work, so I’m going to go grab my stuff.”
“You run,” he said.
I stopped halfway up the stairs. “Excuse me?”
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching me. “If you don’t like how something feels, you leave.”
“So? Am I supposed to hang out when I’m uncomfortable?”
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. This, by the way,” he said pointing from himself to me, “is not running. It’s talking. I like doing things this way. Are you up for it?”
“Sure, but there’s nothing to talk about. I told you it’s no big deal.”
He straightened and slowly climbed a few stairs until he was two steps below me and eye-level. “Good. Then can we talk about this? How about if I ride with you to work while we talk it out, and I’ll take a Lyft back?”
“Can it wait?” I asked.
“Depends. Is this going to bother you today?” I hesitated, and he smiled. “Let’s handle it, and then you don’t have to carry around this thing all day that actuallydoesbother you.”
I searched his face. “You don’t seem nearly dysfunctional enough.”
He snorted. “For what? A guy?”
“A rock star.”
“Retired. A retired rock star. But when you meet my family, you’ll understand. I’m not allowed not to be grounded.”
Warmth spread through my chest at the idea of meeting them, followed immediately by dread. “Wait, are they going to hate me?”
“Why would they hate you?” He sounded genuinely confused.
“Because of the meme?”
That made him laugh out loud. “You should have seen how mad my mom got after I said that onLive with Laura. She’ll probably try to cut me out of the will and adopt you instead.” Then a look of worry crossed his face. “Is your family going to hate me?”
“Uh...”
He rubbed his eyes. “Crap. I should have thought about that.”
“I don’t have any magic words for you, but I wish I did. It might take them a while.”
“Kiss it better?” he asked.
“Will it help?”
“Might cure me.”
“Then I guess I’d better.” And I did, which is why Chloe found us making out in the stairwell five minutes later.
“I haven’t had enough coffee for this,” she said from the top of the stairs.
