Only One Mistake (Only One 6)

“How about we do one thing at a time?” he bargains. I look at him, and he still makes me want to do all the things we shouldn’t be doing. “One, let’s meet my parents, then we can discuss whatever it is you want to discuss.”

“This is crazy,” I say, walking to my room. “Like out-of-the-norm crazy.”

“Oh, baby.” He shakes his head, and I ignore the way my body responds to the nickname. “You have not seen crazy yet.”

“Good to know,” I reply, walking to the bedroom and slamming the door on him.

My back leans against the door as I wait for my heartbeat to calm down. I’m kidding myself because nothing could calm me down.

I walk over to the closet and pull it open, taking an inventory of what I have. I haven’t really bought much since I was still semi-normal until last week. My hand pushes one hanger after another.

A soft knock on the door has me looking over my shoulder. “Are you okay in there?” I’m about to answer him when I hear him laughing. “Or are you having another tea party?”

I roll my eyes. “Not this time.” I shake my head. “Just shining my jewels.”

He chuckles. “And I thought I was the one who had the family jewels.”

“How are we feeling about those jewels right now?” I shout back. “Also, what was your mother wearing?” I look at the closed door.

“Jeans, I think,” he says. “With a pink top. Maybe it was green.”

“So, not formal,” I say quietly. Looking back into the closet, I snatch the gray dress from the hanger. I bought it a couple of weeks ago, but putting it on, I look into the mirror and find it too sexy. So it’s thrown aside, and then I just snatch a pair of black tights and a white shirt. It’s crisp and clean, the sleeves go to the elbow and then flare off a bit. I look into the mirror, deciding that it is a good clean outfit.

When I open the door, I see him sitting on the stool, his head down, typing something on his phone. When he hears the door open, his head looks up, and he smiles at me. “How is this?”

His eyes go lighter as his face fills with an even bigger smile. “Looks good.” Then his smile turns into a smirk. “I like the tiara.” I shake my head at him and look down. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m nervous,” I admit to him. “It’s not easy meeting the guy’s parents to begin with the first time. Throw in the fact that I’m carrying your child, and we...” I wipe away the tear from the corner of my eye.

He gets off his stool and comes over to me. His hands come up and cup both my cheeks. “We got this,” he assures me softly. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right there.”

Chapter 19

Michael

She stands in front of me, looking like an angel as she wrings her hands together. I get off my stool and walk over to her. My hands move up to take her face in them, my thumbs rubbing her cheeks as I try to calm her down. “We got this,” I say, looking deep into her eyes, wanting her to hear what I just said. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right there.” Knowing that no matter what they say, I’ll be in her corner.

“I’ve never had to do this,” she admits. “Usually, parents love me.”

“My parents will love you,” I say. “You’ll see. I promise you.” She swallows and nods her head. I want to lean in and kiss her lips, but I know that if I kiss her, I won’t stop, and then we’ll have a whole different story to tell my parents. “Are you ready?” I ask, and she nods.

She grabs her phone and her purse as she locks her door behind her. “Don’t think I forgot about the bed,” she huffs out as we walk down the hallway toward the door. I chuckle. “It’s not even funny, Michael. How the hell did you even get it here in a couple of hours?” She looks at me as we walk down the steps to the glass door.

I push the door open and hold it for her to step out of. “I ordered my bed from him,” I answer her. “He said if I ever needed anything, to call him.” I stop by the BMW and open the passenger side door, waiting for her to get in.

“And just like that, he sends over the bed?” she asks, getting in and looking up at me. I think about how to answer this. I had to beg and offer him a signed jersey and a couple of tickets to the games.

“It was in stock,” I placate. “I have the same one.”

“How much was it?” she asks, and I just stare at her.