Like Gold // Nate Maloley

[ twelve ]

"Whose clothes did you steal?" My nose scrunched up when I saw Nate emerge from our New Jersey hotel. It was weird enough seeing him wide awake at 10:30 AM. He had on a black polo & jeans that didn't look like a wild street cat attacked them.

"You don't like it?" He tugged on his shirt to get rid of any wrinkles.

"I'm a little frightened."

"It's your fam, Lux. I wanna look nice."

"...If you insist." I open the door to the Uber car and let Nate climb in first. "After you."

+

I was featured more in Nate's snapchat as we rode on the highway. I can only imagine the massive outpour of fangirls trying to figure out who I am. Digging through all of my Instagram posts both past and present, dying to see if my connection to Nate is more than just professional. If they assume we're dating, they'll hate me. If they assume we're fucking, they'll criticize me & call me a slut. And if they assume we're nothing at all, there will be those special few that wish we were.

Then again, I wasn't doing anything in his snapchats that would hint at any of that. All they know for a fact is that I work for him.

We'd be in my hometown in just under 10 minutes. My phone rang and I saw it was Jaxon calling. But I answered without hesitation.

"Hey you," I smiled.

"Hey baby. Whatchu doin'?"

"The real question is what are you doin'? Isn't it like past 7 AM over there?"

"Mmhmm." His morning raspy voice was the sexiest thing to exist. "I just got home. I was out all night with Kalin and Pierre. We went bowling & then hit the club."

"The club, huh? Were you being a good boy?"

I saw Nate roll his eyes from the corner of mine.

"I was a good boy, don't worry. So what are you up to?"

"I'm just with Nate, going to see my parents for brunch."

"Your parents?"

"Yup. They surprised me after the New York show and invited us. We're in the car right now."

"Wait, wait. Nate is meeting your parents? It's just you two?"

"Y-yes, is there something wrong with that?"

"Nah. You two have fun. I'ma go." I could sense the scornfulness in his tone and it was unsettling.

"J, talk to me. You seem upset. What's wrong?"

"If you don't know then don't bother. I'll talk to you later."

Before I could get another word in, he hung up. I tried calling back but it went straight to voicemail. Meanwhile, Nate was biting back a smile.

"Whatever you're smiling about, you better quit," I warned.

"I'm sorry," he let out a laugh. "It's just funny. Dude's all mad 'cause I'm meetin' the folks before him."

"Shut up." I tapped him on the arm.

+

Out of all the things my mother cooked, she made my old favorite along with a more recent favorite: Her famous quiche with spinach, cheese, & hash browns. Dad prepared the mimosas and we all sat on the backyard deck. It was nice being back at the house I grew up in. In usual fashion, my parents resorted to sharing stories of my childhood, giving Nate all the cringeworthy details. Mom brought out the embarrassing prom photo and I was reminded of how much I hated my prom night. Bad dress, no date, showing up in my friend's air-polluting truck. Let's not forget when I bumped into one of the football players at the dessert table and he asked if I also attended our school or was I someone's date.