“How’s the studying going?” Bette asks.
“It’s going …” I say.
“You know, Irie, I was going to say, now that the two of you are dating, you should invite Talon to your cousin’s wedding next month!” Aunt Bette claps her hands together.
I cannot believe she’s doing this.
No, wait. Actually I can.
I never should have told her I agreed to a second date with him because now she thinks we’re officially dating.
Talon’s gaze snaps to mine but his expression is blank. I can imagine the last thing he wants to do is go to some stranger’s wedding in BFE, Missouri.
“You should come with us,” Bette says to him. “It’s the weekend before spring break. We’re going up Friday and coming back Sunday so you’ll still get to enjoy your week off. You ever been to Missouri?”
“No, ma’am, can’t say that I have,” he answers, though he’s still looking at me, trying to gauge my reaction in real-time. “Though I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Liar,” I mouth to him, my back to Aunt Bette.
He cracks a smile. “No, really. I think it could be fun.”
“What are you doing?” I ask him, voice low.
“I don’t want to invite myself along or anything,” he says, “but if you need a date …”
“Of course she needs a date,” Bette says. “You know her ex-boyfriend will probably be there and last time she went home, the son of a bitch wouldn’t leave her alone for two seconds.”
Great.
Let’s bring he-who-shall-remain-nameless into this.
Thanks a lot, Aunt Bette …
“He’s a real asshole,” she says. “Personally, I can’t stand the prick.”
Talon tries not to laugh at Aunt Bette, hiding his face behind his napkin. And I get it. It’s kind of hilarious watching a sweet, pint-sized, little old lady swear like a sailor. It took a solid year for that novelty to wear off for me.
“He could use a big guy like you to put him in his place,” she says.
“Aunt Bette, I’m sorry but we’re trying to study,” I say.
“Ah, that’s right. Got carried away there for a second,” she says, giving us a wink as she shuffles back toward the living room. “Just pretend I’m not here. And I mean that. Seriously.”
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I apologize to Talon. “She shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. By no means would I ever expect you to go to my cousin’s wedding.”
“What if I want to go?”
Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms and peer at him through the flowing candlelight that fills the space between us. “Then I’d say you’re crazy. Certifiably.”
“Why?” Talon shrugs. “I love meeting new people. And I bet your family would love me.”
I almost choke on my spit. “My family doesn’t even love themselves. They’re just a bunch of perfectionistic, miserable jerks who think the only way to get the devil out of you is to handle some snakes and speak in tongues and if that doesn’t work, they take you out back and beat him out of you.”
He laughs.
If only I were joking.
“Seriously, you do not have to go,” I say. “I don’t even want to go. Only reason I am is because Bette needs my help. She can’t travel on her own anymore.”
“Take me with you. I’ll be your buffer. I’ll be your excuse when you need one. Your escape from the chaos. You can show me where you grew up, where you went to high school …” he says. “I think it’d be fun.”
“It’s your last spring break. Ever. I’m sure you can find something more exciting to do. Aren’t your friends going somewhere? Cabo or Palm Beach or something?”
“Of course.” Talon places his hand over mine. “But I’d rather be in Missouri with you than lazing out by some pool with a bunch of drunk idiots.”
I have to admit, it’d be nice having a buffer there. A reason to sneak away. A distraction.
“My aunt and uncle are going to make you stay at a hotel,” I say.
“That’s fine.”
“They’re not warm and fuzzy,” I say.
He sniffs, unfazed. “Neither am I, so already we have that in common.”
“I can’t believe you want to do this.”
His hand is still cupped over mine, the melting candle flickering between us.
“You’re crazy,” I say, hiding my smile behind my fingers as I shake my head at him.
Talon reaches for my hand, pulling it away before he leans in, letting his lips graze mine.
“Crazy about you,” he says.
And then he kisses me.
Right there.
In Aunt Bette’s kitchen, next to an open box of takeout pizza, paper plates, and salt and pepper shakers shaped like cacti.
The rain pelting the window outside intensifies. Back home, when it would rain this hard, most people would stay off the road. It’s not safe to drive if you can’t see where you’re going.
Looks like he’s going to be here a while.