Almost Easy

We All Scream for Ice Cream

Zoey's POV

I didn't tell him about dinner with my parents. Truth is, I didn't even think he'd be able to make it. So why mention it? No one was more surprised than me when he trudged through the kitchen half asleep, shirtless in his gym shorts and grabbed a Red bull from the fridge. I watched him carefully from the table where I was sipping my orange juice and reading my Entertainment Weekly magazine.

"Good morning," I said brightly, relatively happy to see him.

He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "Fucking morning." I watched him grab the loaf of bread and proceed to make himself toast.

"You guys aren't working today?" I asked.

He looked at me, his brown eyes bloodshot and tired "Nope. We get the day off. Heard you had other plans for me today."

"Zacky told you about dinner. Good at least it saves me from having to do it," I shrugged.

"When were you going to tell me about it?" he asked as his toast popped up. He opened the fridge and grabbed the butter.

"I actually wasn't. Didn't think you'd be able to make it."

"I wouldn't miss it even if we were still in the studio today," he frowned as he covered his toast in butter.

"Really?"

"Um yeah. You came to dinner with my family. It's only right that I come to dinner with yours. Get all the awkward questions and stares out of the way."

He seemed entirely too at ease with a situation that made me uncomfortable. And they were my own fucking family.

Funny though, later on during the drive over, he was extremely quiet. Either he was just really tired or really nervous. I like to think it was just exhaustion but I could have been wrong. Either way I ignored whatever it was. I smiled to myself as he drove.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked.

"Nothing. Do you remember everything we discussed?"

He gave a suffering sigh. "Yes. We went over all your family members in detail. I know names and general backgrounds. For God's sake, Zoey, your brother is one of my best friends. There isn't much I don't know about your family."

I conceded the point and pointed toward the upcoming street sign. "Here's the turn for my parents'."

He pulled into the circular driveway and cut the engine.

I never realized how much I missed home until I saw it. I loved the old white Victorian house. Even from outside, it brought back so many happy memories. Weeping willow trees surrounded the edges of the lawn. Large picture windows with black shutters dotted the front. I sighed deeply as the home of my childhood settled around me like a comforting blanket.

"Are you ready?" he asked breaking the spell and I glanced at him.

His face was tired but his eyes were calm. He looked so handsome in his white Calvin Klein T-shirt, relaxed fit jeans and his favorite black boots. His longer dark hair was neatly tamed except for one stray lock over his brow. I resisted the urge to lean over and push it out of his face.

"I'm ready. Are you?" I asked making my way up the walkway to the porch."You look nervous."

His eyebrows crashed together "Fucking do not."

"We're supposed to be madly in love. If they suspect otherwise, my mother will make my life a living hell. So put on a good act. And don't be afraid to touch me. We're part Italian so that's encouraged. If you don't, she'll really suspect something is up. Except, try not to get overly excited about it."