Okay, not gonna lie, my stupid damn heart swelled. What was it about Jonathan Carson that got to me so much? “Aww, baby, you didn’t even realize it back then, but you were already falling for me.” I grabbed his face and tugged him close for a playful kiss on the cheek.
“He’s lying,” Jonathan replied, then turned to Mark. “I talked about him all night?”
“You did, clearly for good reason. I’m not jealous at all.” Mark winked. “But if the two of you ever want a threesome…”
Jonathan blanched, obviously not expecting that. I laughed, nuzzled his side. “I think you’ve proper scandalized my boyfriend.”
Jonathan tensed.
Oh. Fuck.
I’d said boyfriend when we’d decided we were just…us, which somehow both made sense and didn’t.
Also, that had to mean, yep, I totally wanted Jonathan to be my boyfriend. Both of us had agreed we didn’t care if our friends said it, but it was different for one of us to.
Mark was laughing, and Jonathan didn’t mention my slipup. We said goodbye, then headed for his truck. We still had to drive home, as the game hadn’t been at Piedmont Park.
“Did you mean that?” Jonathan asked as he drove. I wasn’t going to lie, but I didn’t want to push him either.
“No obligation or anything, but I’m down if you are.”
He grinned, then turned briefly toward me. “I guess I have myself my first boyfriend.”
“I guess you do.”
Ugh, we were disgustingly cute and I actually liked it.
Fuck my life.
We played the role of proper boyfriends the rest of the week, a role that wasn’t really a role but…real. Jonathan had given me head again and slept in my bed, and now it was the Fourth of July and I was driving us to my mom’s house, where my boyfriend would meet my family. Would I ever meet his? Damn it. That shit kept sneaking into my head.
“Are you nervous?”
“Should I be nervous?” Jonathan asked. Yep, he totally was.
“No, but that doesn’t mean you’re not. I get it. I’d be the same, and in some ways I am a little. This isn’t only a first for you. My mom has met someone I was fucking around with, but not someone who is my boyfriend.”
That was something I figured I should probably tell Elijah about—the whole having-a-boyfriend thing.
“Then yeah, I’m nervous.”
“You could have said that from the start, handsome.”
“But then I would have missed your awesome speech.”
“It’ll be okay. My family is great. A bunch of loud, strong women who adore me. It doesn’t get much better than that.”
“You’re so cocky.” He flicked my ear.
“Ouch. Boyfriends are supposed to be nice. They aren’t supposed to flick ears.”
“Shit. I knew I’d get this wrong.” Jonathan grinned. I loved these moments with him, when he forgot how he thought he was supposed to act and just…let go.
We chatted for the rest of the drive. When we pulled up in front of the small brick house on an older street, I found myself saying, “It’s not much.”
He frowned. “I don’t care about that. I’m just thinking about little Danny running around his yard with a football.”
“I did that a lot.” I leaned over, kissed him. “Come on, baby. We got this.”
We went to the house. The door was open, only the storm door closed. I called out, “Knock, knock,” then went inside. “Your favorite son and brother is here.”
“My only son,” Mama said as Monica added, “You’re not my favorite brother.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Mom came over, gave me a tight hug, then kissed my forehead. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you. I missed my boy.”
“I missed you too, Mama.”
Just as I stood back to introduce Jonathan, Eliza said, “Who’s the hottie?”
Mama told her in Spanish to cut that shit out, and my sisters both laughed. “Jonathan, this is my mama, Gloria. That’s Monica and Eliza, but we mostly ignore them. Sister, the hottie is Jonathan.”
Mama was little compared to me, so she was even smaller next to Jonathan. She walked over to him, though, and immediately wrapped him in a big hug. She was a hugger, and I hoped he didn’t mind. “I’ve been waiting to meet you. Danny talks about you all the time. Jonathan this and Jonathan that.”
“Good lookin’ out, Mama,” I teased, and she swatted my arm.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thank you for having me.”
“No, no. You can call me Gloria or Mama.”
He smiled, and I swore his cheeks pinkened slightly. So fucking cute.
“Yes, ma’am—I mean, Gloria.”
Monica and Eliza made their way over. They both held their hands out to him, and he shook them. Thankfully, they were on their best behavior and didn’t do anything to embarrass Jonathan.
“There’s ceviche,” Mama said.
I let my eyes roll back and groaned. “I love my mama’s ceviche.” I grabbed Jonathan’s hand and tugged him into the kitchen. “Did you make chips?”