He won. Thank God for that. I had no idea how to deal with a grumpy footballer, and I knew Barton would be just that if he lost.

Barton was used to winning. He was used to getting what he wanted. That’s why he was now on his way to my apartment; to claim his victory spoils.

The knock at the door came sooner than I was expecting. An even bigger surprise came when I saw who was on the other side.

“Mom, Dad, what you doing here?”

“Surprise visit,” Mom said. She took my face in her hands and kissed me on the forehead, before giving me a big hug.

“Hi sweetie,” Dad said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Tasha invited us down but insisted that we keep it a surprise.”

“Huh, that’s weird. Tasha,” I yelled. “We have guests.”

In other words, hide whatever weird shit you and Clyde have been playing around with in your room and come say hello.

Except now she wasn’t the only one with ‘weird shit’ to hide from our parents. Boy, that would take some getting used to.

“Mom, Dad,” Tasha screamed as she came out of her room. “This is a surprise.”

“It is?” I asked. Dad looked at me and just shrugged. We’d all learned long ago just to roll with it when Tasha was acting odd.

“Are you staying long?” Tasha asked.

“Um, we’ve booked a hotel for a few days,” Dad replied. “You want to go out for dinner? Or shall we just get takeout?”

“Let’s do takeout,” Tasha replied. “But, uh, well, this is a little embarrassing…. I guess I need to introduce you to someone.”

Oh, you sneaky bitch.

Tasha summoned Clyde from her room and he quickly came out looking like he’d just got dressed.

“This is Clyde,” Tasha said, introducing him to our parents.

I tried hard not to laugh. She’d set the whole thing up just so that our parents could meet Clyde. Of course, she couldn’t do it like any normal person, because then she’d be admitting that she liked him and that he wasn’t just another fuck buddy.

“It’s lovely to meet you Clyde,” Mom said. “I mean it. We don’t often get to meet Tasha’s… acquaintances.”

Clyde smiled knowingly, and started making small talk with my parents. I could tell Tasha hadn’t told him about this visit, and she certainly hadn’t prepared him. Our parents looked like a typical middle of the road couple; a slightly liberal mother, and a conservative father. That was miles from the truth.

My parents were liberal. Really liberal. Not only didn’t they mind Tasha fooling around with loads of guys, they practically encouraged it.

“You don’t want to settle down before you’re ready, honey,” Dad had said many times in the past. “Play the field a bit first. Have fun.”

Yeah, not your typical father.

We all started pouring over the takeout menus when there was another loud knock at the door.

This time it was Barton.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Barton said, the second the door was open. He grabbed my ass, lifted me into the air, and pressed his lips against mine before I could get a word out.

Barton thrust me up against the wall, while I frantically slapped him on the back to get him off me. Finally, he took his lips from mine, but not before getting hard and ready to go.

“Bedroom. Now,” he growled.

“Uh, Barton.” I pointed over his shoulder.

“What?”

He looked round and saw my parents, Tasha, and Clyde all staring at us, and trying desperately not to laugh.

“Barton, I’d like you to meet my parents.”

“Sorry again about earlier,” Barton said to my parents, apologizing for about the fifth time in the last hour. That was probably more than he’d ever apologized in his entire life.

“It’s really fine,” Dad replied. “We’re a little relieved to be honest. I was beginning to wonder whether Kristi would ever let her hair down with a guy.”

“Not to put any pressure on you two, or anything,” Mom quickly added. “I’m sure you kids are just having fun. What is it, a ‘Netflix and chill’ kind of situation?”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed. “Mom, never use that phrase, please.”

Barton had his hand in front of his mouth to hide his laugh, and it looked like Clyde was biting his tongue to stifle a smile.

Growing up, it had always been like this. Whenever Tasha and I brought friends home, they always raved about how cool our parents were and how lucky we were to get such a liberal upbringing. They were right; we were lucky. I knew it, but sometimes I needed reminding of that. You know what they say, you don’t appreciate what you already have. Grass is always greener, et cetera, et cetera.

“Is Netflix and chill already out of date?” Dad asked. “I just can’t keep up. Let’s just say you’re having fun then. That can cover all sorts of situations.”

“I’m definitely having a lot of fun with your daughter,” Barton said.

“Me too,” Clyde said. “A lot.”

“And judging by the glowing look on their faces,” Mom said, “our daughters are having a lot of fun too.”

“That’s a look of embarrassment, Mom,” Tasha said.

“You’ve no need to be embarrassed dear. In fact, I used to date a footballer who looked a little like young Barton here, and let me tell you, we had a lot of fun. We had fun five or six times a day, if I recall correctly.”

“Mom,” I scolded. “You know Dad is sitting right here?”

“Don’t worry about me, dear,” Dad said. “When your mother was dating the footballer, I was with the head cheerleader. Let me tell you, I was—what’s the phrase?—‘balls deep’ in her whenever we got a moment alone.”

“Okay, I’m putting the television on,” I said abruptly, standing up and switching on another reality television show.

“Did we tell you how excited we are to have you in town?” Tasha asked dryly.

“No, I don’t believe you did,” Mom replied with a smile.

“Do you have any plans?” I asked.

“Not really,” Dad replied. “But this is a big city, and we’ve barely scratched the surface on our previous visits. I’m sure we can keep ourselves amused.”

“Care for a stadium tour?” Barton asked. “There won’t be much going on tomorrow, but you can check out the facilities if you like.”

“You sure?” Dad asked. “We don’t want to put you out.”

“It’d be no problem at all. You can all come if you like.”

My parents looked surprised and delighted at the idea. They’d never even been to a game, let alone had a tour of a stadium from the first team quarterback.

After dinner, Tasha started yawning and talking about going to bed, which was her not so subtle way of telling my parents that she was ready for them to leave now. She’d certainly be going straight to bed, as would Barton and I.

Mom and Dad picked up on the hint immediately. “We’d better be getting back to the hotel,” Mom said. “We still need to unpack.”

“Yeah, and after a few drinks, your mother and I like to, you know, watch a bit of Netflix and chill.”

“Ugh,” Tasha and I both grunted simultaneously.

“Okay girls,” Dad said cheerfully. “Have fun.”