from my house, we have resumed our conversation back to much lighter topics. I park in his driveway and notice a truck parked in front of me.
“Chase’s,” he answers my silent question, motioning with his chin who the truck belonged to. It comes as no surprise to me that his roommate is Chase. I jump out of the Bronco and follow him inside.
The inside of his house shocks me. In my mind, I had conjured up an image of the ultimate bachelor pad: posters of half-naked women, neon beer signs, empty pizza boxes and beer cans, and an unidentifiable odor. However, I am pleasantly surprised. Their house is tidy and has a very homey smell. The furniture is reasonably new and neutral in color, and the coffee table is free of discarded food wrappers. The only artwork that hangs on the walls is a collection of hand-drawn prints that vary in subject matter. One is of an antique truck, one is of a beautiful young woman, and one is of an old hound dog. I instinctively know that Tuck drew them. Sure enough, when I voice my question, he confirms my thoughts.
“Yeah, I drew all three of them. The truck was my grandfather’s. One of my first memories is of riding around with him. The woman is my mother, and the dog was my favorite dog growing up.”
“They’re really good, Tuck. You’re very talented.” I step forward to give them a closer inspection. “Your mother was beautiful. I can see a lot of you in her.” He gives me a quick hug as he moves down the hall to change. I take a seat on the couch as I wait for him to get ready.
Within minutes, he’s walking back toward me wearing jeans and a gray tshirt that stretches across his chest in a way that makes me lick my lips. His dark hair is still damp from what has to have been the shortest shower of all time. He looks entirely too hot to be real. Dammit, I sure am glad that we decided to be best friends.
As we continue on our journey to my grandparent’s house, I brief him on what to expect from my grandparents.
“I’ve never brought a guy home, so don’t be surprised if you get the Spanish Inquisition from both of them.”
Tuck seems to be shocked by this revelation. “You’ve never brought a guy home? How? Why?”
I shrug my shoulders as I attempt to explain myself. “I’ve never been in a real relationship with a guy. Sure, I’ve had friends who were guys, and I’ve had hook-ups. But I’ve never been a close enough friend with a guy to want to bring them home, even if our relationship was purely platonic. And of course I’m not going to tell my grandparents that I prefer just to have one night stands. I can’t have the impending heart attack on my conscience.” I look over at Tuck to see how he is handling that little nugget of information. Most guys have a problem knowing that a girl they have slept with has slept with numerous other guys, especially if they were just one night stands. Tuck seems to be fine with all the information that I’ve sprung on him. “I know we aren’t in that type of a relationship; we’re just friends. I’m positive that we’re going to have to explain that to Gramps and Gran that we’re purely friends at least a hundred times. Don’t worry though, my grandparents are awesome. I have no doubt that you’ll love them.”
Tuck reaches over and tugs on my hair. “I’m sure they are pretty kickass grandparents, just like their granddaughter.”
I laugh at his rationale, and within minutes we are pulling into my grandparents’ driveway. My grandparents’ house is set on about fifty acres, and it looks like the quintessential Southern home.
“Chase’s,” he answers my silent question, motioning with his chin who the truck belonged to. It comes as no surprise to me that his roommate is Chase. I jump out of the Bronco and follow him inside.
The inside of his house shocks me. In my mind, I had conjured up an image of the ultimate bachelor pad: posters of half-naked women, neon beer signs, empty pizza boxes and beer cans, and an unidentifiable odor. However, I am pleasantly surprised. Their house is tidy and has a very homey smell. The furniture is reasonably new and neutral in color, and the coffee table is free of discarded food wrappers. The only artwork that hangs on the walls is a collection of hand-drawn prints that vary in subject matter. One is of an antique truck, one is of a beautiful young woman, and one is of an old hound dog. I instinctively know that Tuck drew them. Sure enough, when I voice my question, he confirms my thoughts.
“Yeah, I drew all three of them. The truck was my grandfather’s. One of my first memories is of riding around with him. The woman is my mother, and the dog was my favorite dog growing up.”
“They’re really good, Tuck. You’re very talented.” I step forward to give them a closer inspection. “Your mother was beautiful. I can see a lot of you in her.” He gives me a quick hug as he moves down the hall to change. I take a seat on the couch as I wait for him to get ready.
Within minutes, he’s walking back toward me wearing jeans and a gray tshirt that stretches across his chest in a way that makes me lick my lips. His dark hair is still damp from what has to have been the shortest shower of all time. He looks entirely too hot to be real. Dammit, I sure am glad that we decided to be best friends.
As we continue on our journey to my grandparent’s house, I brief him on what to expect from my grandparents.
“I’ve never brought a guy home, so don’t be surprised if you get the Spanish Inquisition from both of them.”
Tuck seems to be shocked by this revelation. “You’ve never brought a guy home? How? Why?”
I shrug my shoulders as I attempt to explain myself. “I’ve never been in a real relationship with a guy. Sure, I’ve had friends who were guys, and I’ve had hook-ups. But I’ve never been a close enough friend with a guy to want to bring them home, even if our relationship was purely platonic. And of course I’m not going to tell my grandparents that I prefer just to have one night stands. I can’t have the impending heart attack on my conscience.” I look over at Tuck to see how he is handling that little nugget of information. Most guys have a problem knowing that a girl they have slept with has slept with numerous other guys, especially if they were just one night stands. Tuck seems to be fine with all the information that I’ve sprung on him. “I know we aren’t in that type of a relationship; we’re just friends. I’m positive that we’re going to have to explain that to Gramps and Gran that we’re purely friends at least a hundred times. Don’t worry though, my grandparents are awesome. I have no doubt that you’ll love them.”
Tuck reaches over and tugs on my hair. “I’m sure they are pretty kickass grandparents, just like their granddaughter.”
I laugh at his rationale, and within minutes we are pulling into my grandparents’ driveway. My grandparents’ house is set on about fifty acres, and it looks like the quintessential Southern home.
Similar Books
