Page 44 of Yours, For Now

"That's okay." I ignored his comment otherwise.

"Make yourself comfortable." He waved a hand toward the living room. "I'm going to go check on my wife, see how long she might be."

I nodded and he left; I sat on an armchair and took my phone out.

Gabe: I'm in the living room,

idk if you heard the doorbell

Lina: What a gentlemanly way to tell

me to hurry the eff up

I chuckled but typed an answer.

Gabe: I never said anything about

hurrying up. Take your time

Lina: Not sure I believe it. Come to

my room (up the stairs, through the

hallway, 3rd door to the right) so I

can see your face and see if I

believe you

I raised my eyebrows. We were over thirty years old, but the part of me who felt like a teenager needed an urgent reminder to behave. Going to my girlfriend's bedroom at her parents' house for the first time didn't mean anything fun would happen.

I scoffed at myself, put my phone in my pocket, and went up the stairs. Once I found her door, I hesitated only for an instant, and knocked on it with two quick taps of my knuckles.

Fake girlfriend,I told my inner teen.You're not supposed to want to do anything, anyway.

When Lina opened her door and I got a glimpse at her, I could almost see my inner teen give me a sassy smirk.

The daffodil yellow of her cropped top and full skirt contrasted beautifully with the golden sand of her skin. The textured fabric called for my hands, my palms tingling with the instinct to run my fingers all over her. Test the way her dress might create fiction against my nerve endings, and feel the softness of her skin.

"Wow—"

The words got stuck in my throat, and my eyes still roamed her body when she spoke.

"I'm glad you like the dress. Thank you." Her smile was soft when I looked back at her. "I still need to finish doing my hair."

"Sounds good."

She squinted at me, the small smile still in place. "Okay, you don't look like you're annoyed or impatient. You can come in."

She stepped away and sat at her vanity. I leaned against the doorjamb, hands in my pockets, feet crossed at the ankles, and the door wide open. Just in case her parents walked by her room. And just in case my inner teen had any other thoughts on how I felt about Lina.

Her room seemed comfortable. The simple gray upholstered headboard went well with the lilac wall behind it and the white comforter on her bed. Small decor in a variety of bright colors sprung up on the surfaces of her furniture, including a reading lounge chair next to a small table. A wonderful bronze lamp stood proud next to it, and I could imagine Lina reading a book, cozy under the thick-knit purple blanket all too well.

She looked at me in her mirror's reflection. "You haven't asked anything about me living with my parents."

"Do you want me to?"

"No, but I expected it. Even if you're Latino."