38
“How was work?” he asks, stepping off the wall and walking over to me. He bends down to kiss my forehead and takes the bag from my shoulder. He told me not long ago that he didn’t know how to be a boyfriend, but he’s making it look incredibly easy.
When we get to the parking lot, he opens the car door, and I decide that now is the right time to ask him about meeting my parents.
“Hey. So, I’ve been meaning to tell you. My parents are coming on Saturday.”
“Oh?” he says, his facial expression blank, giving me absolutely nothing.
“They’re bringing my little sister. I haven’t seen any of them since I moved,” I continue, waiting for him to say anything else, but he doesn’t. “Do you think you might be around?”
“For what?”
I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear and clear my throat.
“I thought that maybe you might like to meet them.” I try not to let it show, but my insides recoil from my words, expecting rejection.
“I have plans,” he says bluntly, with his eyes firmly on the road, and there it is, the brush off I was expecting but not hoping for.
“That’s ok. I only thought I’d ask. I mean, it’s not like I need them to meet my boyfriend or anything.
I just didn’t know if you’d want to.” The word boyfriend slips through my lips before my mind decides it’s a bad idea.
I call him my boyfriend all the time, in my head and to people who have no idea who he is, but sitting here with the word hovering between us, I regret saying it.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to respond.
We act like a couple. We have sex, and I sleep in his bed every night like a couple, but we’ve never had the talk.
“Of course, it’s ok. I’m allowed to have plans without you, and if I’m being honest, it’s kind of a bitch move to spring your parents’ visit on me at the last minute.
You’ve given me no notice, and now I look like an asshole for having other plans,” he says, placing a hand on my knee.
My mind begins to race. Does that mean that he is my boyfriend?
I thought that he would have jumped at the chance to make sure I knew that he wasn’t, in any way, my boyfriend… but he didn’t correct me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you.” I place my hand on top of his, and he laces his fingers through mine.