1. Allie #2
“You can call me Macie.” Her smile is softer as she returns his handshake, and he seems to settle a bit.
What he doesn’t know is that my mom hugs people she actually likes.
Even though this is my parents’ first time meeting Declan, they haven’t heard the best things about him from Zander and Lou.
Z and I get lunch together once a week during the school year since we’re both attending Golden State.
Lou happened to be in the area for a meeting with one of her clients a couple months ago, so she joined too.
I thought it would be a good time to slowly start introducing Dec to the people in my life, but when he ordered his salmon without garlic butter and it came on top anyway, he absolutely lost his shit on the waitress.
Unfortunately for him, the Ramoses hold grudges, and they also hold service workers in high regard.
They’ve been talking shit ever since.
An awkward tension stretches between the four of us, so I clap my hands together. “Okay, well, I need to finish these brownies, and then we’ll head outside.”
“Don’t forget to mark the special brownies with the green flags,” Mom chimes. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened to Zander last year.”
Declan’s gaze flashes to me at the mention of Z’s name. I toss him a closed-lip smile. Of course, he had to have assumed that Zander would be here tonight, but I may have intentionally left out his name when Dec asked me who was on the guest list.
The thing about Declan is that he’s apologetic after he acts like an ass, he just loses his mind in the moment. He knows the way he behaved at that lunch was far from okay, and he’s embarrassed about it now, but I can’t change the fact that it left a bad taste in the mouths of my lifelong friends.
“I know. I’ve got the cannabis desserts marked as such.”
“Good.” She kisses the top of my head. “I’m going to go talk to Darby about Willow’s hot new friend. I’ll see you outside. Nice to meet you, Declan,” she says, her voice trailing off as she leaves the kitchen.
“Don’t call boys young enough to be your son hot!” I call. “It’s creepy.”
“She’s a cougar, she can’t help it.” Dad shrugs, leaning against the counter as if he’s getting comfortable, making it clear that he’s not about to leave Dec and me alone.
“So, what are your intentions with my daughter?” he asks, plucking a brownie from one of my boxes and popping it into his mouth.
“Oh. Well…”
“Probably to survive this party so he can take me home and take me to bed after,” I mutter.
Dad tosses me an unsurprised yet exasperated look.
I toss him a sickly sweet grin. “Don’t worry, Father—he’s passionate about foreplay and aftercare.”
“Allie,” Dec sputters, jaw-dropping and nostrils flaring with what I can only describe as extreme offense.
He’s certainly less blunt than I am, and much more modest, but I’m not one to hold my tongue.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks before turning to my father and raising his palms. “I’m so sorry, that was incredibly inappropriate. I cannot believe—”
“Are you berating my daughter right now? Shaming her for having confidence in her sexuality?”
“No. No.” Declan shakes his head rapidly. “I just—”
I laugh. “Okay, Dad, we need to chill. We’re going to traumatize him for life.”
He tosses me an unamused look. He genuinely took issue with the way Declan spoke to me just then, and for a moment, unease plucks at my chest as I think back on the many, many other times Declan has been far worse.
Declan finds me embarrassing. Loud. Obnoxious. He doesn’t like when I cause a scene or say something vulgar. I’m too high-maintenance and take too long to get ready in the morning. The books I read are too salacious, and I’m seeking an unreasonable amount of attention when I dance.
The thing is, it doesn’t bother me because I don’t care.
His opinion doesn’t offend me and won’t change me.
Eventually, he may grow too tired of me and walk away, but when it’s just the two of us behind closed doors, he is soft and sweet and gentle.
So, maybe someday he’ll decide those quiet moments between us are worth the chaos I’m made of and learn to accept me for who I am. Or he won’t, and we’ll break up.
I’m confident I’ll be fine either way.
Dad’s still watching me with accusatory eyes, so I cough a laugh, facing Dec. “We’re just messing around. You’ll get used to the dynamic. Don’t worry.”
Declan’s lip curls like we’re entirely unhinged. Maybe we are.
“Now you know where I get it from.” I shrug, turning back to my brownies.
Dec clears his throat. “Admittedly, the relationship I have with my parents isn’t so… playful. They’re traditional.” He laughs half-heartedly. Uncomfortably. “It’s nice to see.”
I toss him a sorry smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed now.
I have half a mind to pipe up and add that Dec and I actually haven’t had sex. We’ve participated in oral, but I haven’t let him take it farther than that. Every time we’ve gotten close to it happening, I’ve just…hesitated. Like I do with them all.
Fucking tease, I’m often called, always in a degrading, frustrated kind of way.
I suppose it’s not entirely normal to make a comment to one’s dad about hooking up with their boyfriend—especially in front of said boyfriend. Our family is overtly honest with each other, and I was never raised to hide my thoughts or feelings, least of all from my parents.
The environment I was raised in normalized speaking up and out about all things in life, and maybe that caused us to lack boundaries, but I’m not interested in dulling us down either.
Declan studies me with contemplative hazel eyes, as if he’s trying to decipher every thought running through my mind—and is growing increasingly frustrated that he can’t. I don’t take my gaze off him as my dad’s lips brush the top of my head before his clipped footsteps dwindle into a faded echo.
A buzzing erupts in my pocket. I break the awkward eye contact as I slide my phone out and answer Willow’s call. “Hi, lover.”
Dec scoffs. I ignore him.
“Where are you?” she asks, shouting over the thumping bass of the speakers echoing Leo’s playlist. The song’s repetitive lyric of “When I met you in the summer” is sure to make my ears bleed if I hold onto this conversation much longer.
“Frosting brownies,” I say.
“Well, hurry up! Z has a present out here for you and he says it’s urgent.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “A present? For lil’ ol’ me?”
She hangs up on me, but I finish dashing sprinkles across the top of each pan of brownies before handing two to Declan and grabbing the other two for myself. “All right. Are you ready?”
He shrugs, the expression on his face telling me he’d rather be anywhere else.
I don’t bother arguing with him as I spin on my heel and take a left out of the kitchen and down the hallway that leads to the backyard. I push open one of the French doors with my hip, the music blasting through my ears and the summer breeze brushing through my hair.
Darby and Leo’s wraparound porch is littered with guests, the lawn beyond it a crowded sea of people.
The Pacific sparkles in the distance, the sun casting down on the whitecaps like glittering gold.
I take a long, deep breath of Pacific Shores air, marching toward the food table beside the door and making space for the brownies.