Page 104 of Play Along With Me
"I'd like to be," she says carefully. "If my work schedule allows."
"I can get you tickets," I offer, trying to sound casual despite the warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of Audrey being there. "If you want them."
"I do," she nods, her smile small but genuine. "Though I still won't understand what's happening about sixty percent of the time."
"That's what Jake is for," my father points out. "To explain the finer points after the game."
"Among other things," my mother adds with a meaningful look that makes me want to disappear into the floor.
"Okay," I warn.
"What? I just meant he's good at analyzing plays and strategies," she says innocently. "What did you think I meant?"
Audrey's barely suppressed laughter isn't helping matters.
Finally, mercifully, my parents begin gathering their things to leave. "We should get going if we want to make our flight," my father announces, checking his watch. "Audrey, it was wonderful meeting you. I hope we'll see you again soon."
"I'd like that," Audrey says, and she sounds sincere. "Safe travels home."
My mother pulls her into a hug that Audrey returns with surprising ease. "Take care of our boy," she whispers, not nearly quietly enough for me to miss it. "He needs someone who makes him laugh."
"I'll do my best," Audrey promises, meeting my eyes over my mother's shoulder with a small smile that does strange things to my heart rate.
After another round of goodbyes, with my mother extracting promises from both of us to call regularly and let her know how things are "progressing," my parents finally leave. The door closes behind them, and for a moment, Audrey and I just stand there in the sudden quiet of my apartment.
"So," she says finally, breaking the silence. "That happened."
"I am sorry," I groan, covering my face with my hands. "I had no idea they had a key, or that they would just show up, or that my mother would be so..."
"Patricia-like?" Audrey suggests.
"Exactly," I sigh, dropping my hands to look at her. "Are you okay? That was probably not how you envisioned our first morning together."
"Definitely not," she agrees. "But honestly? It was kind of hilarious. The look on your face when I walked out in just your t-shirt—priceless. Worth the momentary mortification."
Her ability to find humor in what could have been an excruciatingly awkward situation continues to amaze me. Where most people would be embarrassed or angry about being caught in such a compromising position by their new quasi-boyfriend's parents, Audrey somehow transforms it into a funny anecdote.
"You're incredible," I tell her, closing the distance between us to cup her face in my hands. "Most women would be halfway to Mexico by now after that experience."
"Mexico is overrated," she says dismissively. "Too sunny. Bad for my pasty complexion."
But her eyes soften as she looks up at me, her hands coming to rest at my waist. "Besides, I'm not most women."
"No," I agree, leaning down to brush my lips against hers. "You're definitely not."
She responds immediately, rising onto her tiptoes to deepen the kiss, her arms sliding around my neck. There's something different about kissing her now, after the intensity of last night and the shared awkwardness of this morning—a familiarity that feels earned rather than assumed, a comfort in each other's space that makes every touch feel both exciting and right.
When we finally break apart, both slightly breathless, Audrey glances at her phone and sighs. "I should probably go home at some point. Mr. Darcy will be plotting my demise for abandoning him overnight, and I have a shift at the café."
"Or," I suggest, trailing my fingers along her spine, "you could stay a little longer. I don't have practice until three."
"Tempting," she admits, leaning into my touch. "What did you have in mind for these intervening hours?"
"Well," I say thoughtfully, "I could give you that proper apartment tour we got sidetracked from last night. All three pieces of furniture, in explicit detail."
"Sounds riveting," she deadpans. "Any particular features you'd like to highlight?"
"The bed has some unique qualities we could explore further," I suggest, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear that I discovered last night makes her breath catch. "Very... responsive springs."
