“Of course I do. I’m afraid it’s a little fast, and I’m scared about what your mom will think,” I admitted.
“I already told her.”
“You told her?” I asked incredulously. “What did you say? What did she say?” I fired at him in a rush.
“I told her that I asked you to move in with me during the summer. I asked her if that was going to be a problem.” >“I wasn’t a big Winnie the Pooh person when I was little,” I confessed.
“Yeah, but you had to have watched it at least once.”
I shook my head.
“I think I’m having a stroke,” he said, placing his hand on his heart.
“Dramatic much?” I quizzed at his antics.
“I’m just in shock. How could your mom let this happen? Next, you’ll tell me you didn’t watch Sesame Street either.”
I looked out my window so he wouldn’t see my lips quirking.
“Shut up. No Sesame Street either?”
“Nope,” I answered. “Tressa and I were into other cartoons,” I admitted.
“Please tell me it wasn’t SpongeBob.”
“No, not SpongeBob,” I hem-hawed.
“Spill it,” he demanded, tickling my leg until I gasped out the answer.
“Fine. We were Johnny Bravo and Batman Beyond fans.”
“Seriously? Those were the shows I watched.”
“Probably not for the same reasons as us,” I said.
He looked at me questioningly as he pulled into the driveway beside Trish’s minivan.
“We sort of watched them because we thought Johnny Bravo and Bruce Wayne were cute,” I muttered, grabbing my bag and hopping from the jeep.
“Ha, and you call me the flirt,” he teased, grabbing my suitcase and leading me to the stairs to his apartment.
“You are a flirt.”
“Brittni,” Hollie squealed, barreling down the basement stairs as we entered Justin’s apartment. She threw her arms around my waist, making me stagger to keep my balance.
“Hollie, what did I tell you?” Justin chastised.
“That I have to knock before I come down here,” Hollie answered petulantly.
“Knock and what else?” he asked, placing my suitcase on the coffee table.
“And wait until you answer,” she added reluctantly.
“Exactly. If I were in a regular apartment, you wouldn’t be able to barge in anytime you want. I like seeing you every day, but you have to respect my privacy. Now, go back upstairs and knock,” he said, steering her toward the stairs.
“Sheesh, it’s not like you two were lip-locked or anything,” she muttered, stomping up the stairs.
“Tough love?” I asked, turning to Justin.