Broken Juliet

He practically growls when he says, “Fuck, yes.”

 

Without any more discussion, we go for round five, and it’s more amazing than the other four put together.

 

 

 

 

A week later, Ethan stands behind me and fiddles with his hair in the bathroom mirror. This is the third time he’s done it. Marco made him get it cut last week, so it’s a little shorter than usual. He hates it. I think it’s sexy.

 

So is his nervousness.

 

He finally gives up and sits on the bed while I finish my makeup.

 

“What do I call them?” he asks.

 

“I mean, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Taylor’ seems wrong, considering they’re no longer married.”

 

“Then call them Leo and Judy.”

 

“Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little disrespectful?”

 

“I call your mom and dad Maggie and Charles.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Wow, my girlfriend’s so rude.”

 

I laugh and walk over to him. “You didn’t mind so much this afternoon.”

 

I stand between his legs, and he runs his hands up my rib cage, then palms my breasts. “Yeah, well, I’ve never done that particular thing on that part of your body before. It was hot. Plus, you were kind of insistent that’s what you wanted. Also hot.”

 

“Well, considering I now have a boyfriend eager to fulfill my every sexual whim, I may have come up with a list of things I want to try.”

 

“Really? Like what?”

 

I lean down and graze my lips over his. “If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

 

“I don’t like surprises,” he says as he pulls me onto his lap. “And speaking of which, if you do that thing with your finger again without warning me or using appropriate lubrication, you’re going to be in trouble.”

 

“What sort of trouble?”

 

“The kind where I spank the hell out of your gorgeous ass ’til you can’t sit down.”

 

“Ooh. Have you been peeking at my list?”

 

He groans and pulls me against his now-impressive erection. “Fuck me, woman. Do your parents know you’re pure evil wrapped in sex?”

 

“No. And if you want to make it through this dinner alive, I’d suggest you not mention me and sex in the same sentence in front of my father. He has many guns and probably thinks I’m still a virgin.”

 

“What would he do if he knew I took your virginity?”

 

“I’m not sure, but I suspect it would involve your balls and some sort of crushing device.”

 

I kiss him and climb off to finish my makeup. He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

 

“What happened afterward with us was screwed up,” he says quietly. “But the actual first time … Was it okay? When you think about it, do you just get pissed, or…”

 

I lean back into his chest. “Even though you bailed on us a few weeks later, my memories of that night are…” I smile as a shiver of pleasure runs up my spine. “I can’t even tell you how incredible that night was. I never regretted you being my first.”

 

He leans his chin on my shoulder and looks at me in the mirror. “It was the most amazing thing I’d ever experienced. Despite freaking out over how much I felt for you.”

 

“You were pretty talented at the freak-outs,” I say, and turn around so I can put my arms around his neck.

 

“Yeah. I thought I was over all that. And yet, the concept of meeting your parents brings it all back to me.”

 

“You’ll be fine.”

 

“What if they don’t like me?”

 

I give him a reassuring kiss. “They will.”

 

“What if they don’t like my food?”

 

Another kiss. “You’ve made vegan crap actually taste good. My mother may hit on you.”

 

“What if I randomly say ‘fuck’ or ‘sex’? Or ‘My God, you two made a gorgeous daughter, and let me tell you, she’s an animal in the sack’?”

 

“Don’t.”

 

“Well, okay then.”

 

There’s a knock at the door, and he practically jumps away from me.

 

I laugh. “Ethan, chill.”

 

He rolls his neck, and it cracks loudly. “I’m fine. I’m good. Operation Impress Your Parents is a go. Let’s do this.”

 

We head down the corridor, and he veers off into the living room. When I open the door, I hug my parents fiercely. I don’t get to see them very often, so every visit is precious.

 

“Come in,” I say and lead them down to the living room. Ethan’s there, standing awkwardly, hands in pockets.

 

“Mom, Dad … this is Ethan.”

 

He steps forward and extends his hand. “Mrs. Taylor, Mr. Taylor … it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Cassie’s told me a lot about you.”

 

Mom and Dad shake his hand in turn, but I don’t miss how Dad narrows his eyes. It’s to be expected, I guess.

 

For the most part, I think dinner goes well. Ethan tries way too hard, but my mom adores him. He’s very charming.

 

He even manages to get Dad to talk about football for a while, so I guess that’s a good sign.

 

After dinner, Mom and I do the dishes as an excuse to leave the boys alone to talk. Surprisingly, Ethan has a lot to say, but I can’t make it out from the kitchen.

 

Whatever it is, it makes my Dad happy, because just before he and Mom leave, he shakes Ethan’s hand with both of his. He hardly ever does that. It’s like his version of a man-hug.