Page 92 of Kissing is the Easy Part
“Sure. I’ll go tweeze my eyebrows.”
“No . . . can you come here instead? I want you beside me.”
I slide in and lie down next to him. He places his head against my shoulder, positioning his arms around my body. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice is soft, falling over me like rose petals. “I feel better whenever I see you. You don’t even need to say anything.”
Here it is. The final positive feedback part of the sandwich method, and it works. This guy isgood. I run my fingers through his hair. I don’t speak, because I’ll ruin it if I do.
“Baby, I need you,” he murmurs. His body grows heavier as he relaxes against me. Underneath Sean’s cool, composed exterior, he’s pure Bambi-level sweetness.
“I need you too,” I say. “Hey, I forgot to mention. My parents want to have dinner with you.”
He nods with his eyes closed. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Sean
Flora’s parents are the least parent-like figures I’ve ever met. Some of it’s because they’re so young, with practically nonexistent lines around their eyes, but mostly it’s because of the way they carry themselves. It’s easier to regard them as Taylor and Alice, two polished, charming executives who make you believe their lives must be spectacular.
Her dad has a perfectly calibrated handshake, paired with just enough eye contact to seem engaged, but I get the sense he meets too many people to remember them all. Her mom speaks with practiced ease, like someone who has refined these lines to perfection. Still genuine, but detached enough to stay in control. Her brother, Jeremy, seems self-assured and laid-back. There’s a cool glint in his eyes that saysI’m exceptional, but I won’t hold it against you. He has Flora’s eyes.
“You’re the first boyfriend I’ve gotten to meet.” Jeremy rises from his seat, offering a handshake with an easy grin. The grin disappears and his tone turns ominous. “My dad handled all the previous ones. One of the bodies is still unaccounted for, but we don’t talk about that.”
“Shut up.” Flora shoots him a glare. “I really like Sean. Don’t scare him off.”
Run, Jeremy mouths.
“Sweetheart, we’re happy you got back together.” Her mom brings up our breakup as casually as if she’s recommending a new coffee shop in Capitol Hill. She smiles at me. “Flora’s told us so much about you. All good things. We’re thrilled to finally meet you!”
There’s a round of hugs before we sit down again under the giant ceiling light, an extravagant fixture made up of countless gold spoons. Everything sparkles, from the silver utensils to the wineglasses that are as thin as eggshells. We’re served a bread assortment, accompanied by three different types of butter, shaped like a pyramid, a cookie, and a tangled mass of yarn respectively.
The menu arrives, and they all barely glance at it before ordering, as if they’ve memorized it already. Flora’s mom asks about a special venison dish that isn’t even listed. I’ve always thought my vocabulary was broad enough, but it falls short in the culinary world.
“Have you been here before?” Taylor asks. “This is our favorite restaurant in the city.”
I peel my eyes away from the prices on the menu. “No, thanks for inviting me. This place is incredible. I feel like I should have dressed nicer.”
Alice smiles. “Don’t mention it. At the end of the day, it’s just a restaurant with better tableware.”
“And servers who deserve Academy Awards,” Jeremy adds. “They act like they’re genuinely excited about our dinner choices. I always have the urge to ask what would be a not-so-excellent choice.”
Apparently, there’s no such thing. Every bite is exquisite, from the lobster and langoustine ravioli to the turbot bathed in a soup of flowers and herbs and the mini glass of raspberry parfait meant to cleanse the palate. I never knew people ate like this—a collection of heavenly ingredients boiled down to a single drop of sauce.
When Taylor asks me about school, Flora launches into full grandma-brag mode, gushing about my grades as if she’s showing off baby pictures. “If MIT was smart, they’dbeghim to enroll.”
Taylor nods. “Impressive. What field do you want to specialize in?”
“Either electrical engineering and computer science or mechanical engineering with a focus on robotics,” I say, and they nod in approval, like I answered a test question correctly.
“That’s a lot to juggle—varsity sports, AP classes, and extra projects,” Jeremy says. “I’ve been there, still trying to repress the memory.”
“It’s wonderful to hear how well you’re doing. You’re goal oriented,” Alice says to me, then she flicks her gaze over to Jeremy. “Jer was valedictorian of his high-school class. We’re all so proud.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m barely keeping up,” I say as Flora fidgets beside me. “Any insights on how you got into Harvard?”
“Let’s see, perfect GPA, elite-level hockey, debate nationals. Yeah, it was basically a done deal. Not gonna lie, having some family advantages didn’t hurt.” Jeremy leans in, mock sympathy all over his face. “But I had one less thing on my plate—I wasn’t in a relationship. Dating my prima donna of a sister has got to be . . .character building, right?”
Flora kicks him under the table.
