“I want you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
She said that like it was a slip. Like she didn’t expect it to come out.
And the way her eyes rounded after she said it underlined that.
He just didn’t get it since they’d taken every opportunity they could since they started connecting to do just that.
Connect.
So her asking him to dinner, since he’d already had a couple of meals at her house, didn’t seem weird.
Therefore, it was careful when he said, “I’m in.”
She didn’t hesitate to explain it.
“That would be dinner with Juno and me.”
Right.
Juno would be home tomorrow.
Definitely a big thing, and fast, for Auggie to be at their house for a family dinner.
“You sure you’re ready for that?” he asked quietly.
“She wants us together.”
“I’m not asking about Juno. Your girl has made her preferences clear. And I’ll reiterate, I’m in. Now I’m asking, are you—?”
He didn’t finish because there was a manic pounding on his front door.
He’d heard that frenzied demand for attention often in his life, either with a banging at the door, or a variety of other options.
Hearing it right then, Aug went still and his gut twisted.
Not now.
Pepper jerked in surprise and her eyes went over his head toward the door.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!
The pounding didn’t stop and Auggie sat up, taking Pepper with him.
“Don’t move from here, I’ll deal with it,” he muttered.
“Deal with—?” she began.
“Boy! I saw your car parked out back. I know you’re there. Open the door!”
Yep.
That was his mother shouting through his front door like that was a perfectly normal thing to do on a Sunday afternoon.
Or at any fucking time.
He felt his throat tighten with the need to shout back words he didn’t want Pepper to hear.
He also felt his neck at the base of his head go solid with tension that this was happening, especially now, the first time Pepper was at his place.
Last, he felt a prickling of his skin he knew was adrenaline born of acute anger.
“Don’t move,” he repeated firmly to Pepper as he left her sitting on the couch, got up and stalked to the door.
He opened it, knowing the front storm door would be as it always was.
Locked.
That was the only good thing he knew.
Because it was worse than he thought.
His mother had bags with her.
It was rare she brought suitcases, at least to his house, because she knew that was a no go, no way in fuck with Auggie.
“I’m done with him,” she declared upon first sight of her son.
Not “Hey.”
Not “Sorry to interrupt your Sunday. Are you busy? I need to talk.”
Just, I’m done with him.
And honest to Christ, if Auggie had a dollar for every time those words came out of her mouth, he’d fucking retire.
And he’d do it somewhere far away from there, meaning far away from his parents.
“Mom, now is not the time,” he told her, and her mass of now-dyed blonde curls piled on top of her head bounced when she jerked with surprise.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
“I said now isn’t the time. And you know,” he tipped his head to indicate the suitcases, “that isn’t gonna happen.”
“Augustus—”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said and started to shut the door.
“Augustus!” she shrieked.
But he didn’t close the door.
He didn’t because a situation that was not all that great turned exponentially worse.
This was because his father was prowling up the sidewalk.
Fuck, FUCK!
This part didn’t happen often. When she took off, his dad normally let her go in order that both of them could play out whatever scene they were creating to its most drawn-out, but always the same, conclusion.
His father following his mom?
This was gonna be bad.
Auggie had left his keys in the kitchen, but he needed to open the door, step out, and shut whatever this drama was away from Pepper, doing that hopefully moving it from his front stoop, getting them to their cars and getting them away from there.
But he couldn’t do that because he didn’t have the key to get the door open.
“Dana! We weren’t fuckin’ done!” his father shouted.
His mother whirled around. “We haven’t ever been this done, you piece of shit, waste of space!” She whirled back to her son. “Auggie, let me—”
She stopped abruptly, leaned to the side, got up on her toes and looked beyond him.
Goddamn fuck.
Even as he shifted to block his mother’s view into the house, he glanced over his shoulder.
Pepper was lying on her side on the couch. The TV faced the room, the couch faced the windows and door, and if you looked in, which his mother was doing, you could see Pepper.
“Who’s that?” his mom asked.
Still turned her way, he caught Pepper’s eyes and saw her bite her lip and stretch up her brows.
Yeah, she was beautiful.
Yeah, she could be cute.
Yeah, she was often totally hilarious.