Reagan

Stop thinking about his hard abs. If you walk into your parents’ home and they see the look of desire on your face, it’ll go downhill from there.

Mom had always read me too well.

In fact, she’d known the night I lost my virginity. I’d made it home by my curfew, which was good for an eighteen-year-old with a curfew of 11:00 p.m. At first, I’d thought they were both in bed. The house had been dark when I unlocked the front door and snuck in with my heels in my hand.

Then boom.

A light flicked on, and I’d screamed, turning to find Mom sitting in the corner chair in the living room. She had, at the time, my large lizard sitting on her lap and she was stroking it while her gaze ran over me.

Then she’d quickly stood, flung my poor lizard to the chair, and cried, “You had sex. Oh my God. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. She’s been deflowered.”

She didn’t stop there.

“Herb,” she yelled for Dad.

“Mom, I swear to God, if you tell him in front of me, I’ll disown you and hook up with a drug dealer.”

Her mouth snapped closed. “Fine. And a mother always knows these things. Well, there’s also the fact you have your top inside out.” She started to walk toward me. “Now, you know your first time is never the best time.”

“Mom!” I’d snapped, turning redder by the second.

“Especially with a boy your age. They don’t know how to please a woman or that women have many spots—”

“I’m going to bed,” I’d announced quickly, and made a run for it.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she’d called. I’d tried my best to dodge her, but the woman had been persistent. It was one of those moments where a therapy session was needed, after a good session of rocking back and forth in a corner.

When we pulled up in front of my parents’ place, Carter was already out and on his way to open my door. But I was nervous. I didn’t want him to think I thought it was a date. Just the thought of him and my parents in the same place was enough for my hands to start sweating.

So again, once I was out and in front of him, I asked, “Are you really sure?”

He chuckled. “Yes.”

With a sigh, I nodded and led the way up the path to the front door. Usually, I’d just walk in, but I’d decided it was best to knock as a warning, hoping they wouldn’t be doing anything… I didn’t know what exactly, just anything they usually did. Then again, I remembered they knew we were coming and surely, they would be on their best behavior. I checked my phone. It was five minutes past the time we had to be there.

So, with another sigh, I turned the handle and stepped in.

I should have knocked.

Mom was standing on the other side of the couch half crouched down, and Dad was… I didn’t want to know honestly, but I couldn’t see him.

I was just about to open my mouth when Mom snapped, “Lick it. Just lick it.”

“Mom!” I cried when I realized she had a hold of Dad’s head in front of her.

She straightened and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, hi.”

“Breathe,” I heard Carter say from my side with a light voice.

How on earth could he find that scene funny?

“Let Dad up. What are you trying to get him…? No! Actually, I do not want to know.” I shook my head again and again.

Carter wheezed a little.

Dad snorted and poked his head up. “Honey, it’s not what it looks like—”

“Dad, I don’t want to know.”

“Ree, don’t be silly.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Your dad spilled something, and I’ve just cleaned the house top to bottom. I was making him clean it up. He wasn’t going down on me.”

I groaned, loudly, and then slapped my forehead.

“Don’t,” I begged. “Please don’t mention that action again in front of me.”

“What? Cleaning?” Dad laughed at his own joke and stood. It was then he finally fully took in Carter. “Holy fuck.”

“Herb!” Mom scolded. “We don’t swear in front of guests.” Mom stepped around and walked toward us with her hand held out. Carter stepped just in front of me.

They were about to touch when Dad jumped the couch, wrapped his arm around Mom’s waist, and shoved her to the side. He faced Carter, his eyes wide with… something akin to awe, maybe fear, and something else. He seemed a little pale. He placed his hands on Mom’s shoulders and shook her a little.

“Do you know who that is?”

“Ree’s friend?”

“Do you know who that is?” he asked again.

“Dad,” I said gently, easing up to their side.

“Woman, you don’t touch greatness without washing your hands first,” Dad told Mom.

I groaned. “Dad!” I yelled. “Stop shaking Mom.”

He dropped his head in his hands and turned a little green.

“Ah, sir. I’m just Carter Anthony. A friend of your daughter’s.”

Dad teetered on his feet. I grabbed his arm.

“Herb?”

“Dad?”

He blinked. “He called our daughter his friend,” he whispered to Mom, only we all heard. I glanced over my shoulder at Carter, and his lips twitched.

“Herb, I think you need to sit down.” We led him over to a chair and sat him down. He looked up and just stared at Carter.

Walking back over to Carter near the door, I started, “I’m so sorry about—”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

Mom stepped up. “I’m sorry about my husband, but you must be pretty important for him to lose it like that. I’m Elaine Wild.” Her hand came out again. Dad murmured something unintelligible. We all ignored him.

Carter shook Mom’s hand. “Carter Anthony. I’m the quarterback to the Wolves football team.”

Dad whimpered.

“Ahh, now I understand.” Mom nodded. “Herb just watched your game live this morning.”

We all glanced at my father; he was still just sitting and staring at Carter. It was even beginning to freak me out.

“So how did you two meet?” Mom asked.

“School,” I shot out with. “Carter came into the school I teach at and—”

“That bastard!” Dad cried. “Tom didn’t tell me.”

And I now understood why Tom never said anything to Dad. Dad was a big fan, one who freaked out upon meeting someone famous apparently.

“You should call him,” I suggested, an evil smile lifting my lips. Both Mom and Carter laughed.

“Damn right I will.” He stood and quickly stormed off into the kitchen, nearly tripping on his way because his eyes stayed glued to Carter. I figured he thought Carter would disappear on him. He sped around the corner, no doubt to snap up the phone, because in the next second, he appeared again. His eyes went back to Carter while he placed the phone against his ear.

“I think you should be scared,” I muttered out the corner of my mouth to Carter. All he did was chuckle.

“No, really. He’s even freaking me out the way he’s staring at you. He’ll probably try to have your baby next.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “That’s plain impossible, Reagan.” He flicked his eyes to Carter, a blush forming on his cheeks. “My daughter can have babies though.”

Mom laughed. Carter grinned, while I cried, “Dad, you can’t just offer me up like that.”

His hand came up. “Tom. You listen here you little fucker.”

“Herb!” Mom snapped harshly.

“Dad!” I cried.

“No. You’re on my shit list. Why? You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. Guess who’s standing in my living room with my daughter after they met at your school.”

“Well,” I tried to cut in before Dad cut Tom from his life.

“That’s right. Carter Anthony.”

Dear God. Dad sighed after saying Carter’s full name.

“You had him at your school without telling me. Me! Your friend. Your buddy. What? Well, no. I could have. I didn’t freak out too bad.” Mom and I gave Dad a look. “Shit, maybe I did.” He sighed. “Fine. But you owe me big. Next time you bring the beer, even though it’s my turn.” He quickly hung up the phone.

Carter stepped toward him, and Dad’s eyes widened a little. Carter’s hand came out. Dad looked down at it, up to him, and then down at it again before gripping it.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Wild.”

“Yes. Right. You too, son. You too. Drink? Snack? Chair? A nap?”

Holy hell. Next, he could offer him a blowjob. I had to step in.

“Carter would probably love a beer, Dad. And I’m sure we’re having dinner soon. Right?” I asked, turning to Mom.

She snapped out of her dazed look at Dad, probably having never seen him act that way, and nodded. “Yes, dinner. Why don’t you and Carter have a seat, and we’ll get drinks and check on dinner, which should be ready any second now.”

Smiling gratefully, I went over to the couch and sat down. Only I looked back to see Dad still holding Carter’s hand.

Groaning, I said, “Dad, let go of Carter so you can get him a beer.”

“Right. Yes.” He nodded. He dropped Carter’s hand and then, to my horror, he placed his arm around Carter’s back and led him forcefully over to the couch and helped him sit right next to me. “Stay. Beer. Talk to Reagan.” He patted Carter’s shoulder. “You know she’s single.”

“Dad,” I hissed.

Carter, with a humorous glint in his eyes, glanced at me. “But I thought she had a boyfriend named James Blunt.”

Oh, crap.

I’d forgotten about him.

Dad snorted. “No. She’s single and ready to mingle.”

“Jesus, Dad.”

“What?” he asked in an innocent tone.

“Herb, get in here,” Mom called roughly.

“Right.” Dad nodded again and glanced from Carter to me. He gave me some type of weird look that apparently I was supposed to know what he meant. When I raised my brows in question, he scowled and then walked off in a huff.

As soon as he was out of sight, I whispered, “It’s not too late to leave.”

He faced me. “Hell no. I’m having the time of my life.”

My head jerked back in shock. I narrowed my eyes. “Are you feeling okay? My dad could come back in here and offer to rub your feet next.”

He gave me a sweet smile. “Reagan, it’s fine. Once he gets over the shock, he’ll be back to normal.”

I scoffed. “I doubt that. We’re not a normal family.”

He winked, and my body shivered. “I like different.”

Sweet Mother Mary.

He liked different.

I was different.

“Reagan’s always been different,” Dad announced as he entered.

Slumping back on the couch, I groaned. “Next you’ll try and sell me to Carter.”

Dad stopped. He glanced to Carter, his brows rose. “Is that an option?”

“Dad!” I yelled.

“Herb,” Mom snapped as she entered. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He sighed, and then continued forward with Carter’s beer. “Here you go, Carter Anthony.”

He was worse than me.

“Just Carter, Mr. Wild.”

Dad giggled. Never in my life had I thought Dad would ever giggle, but there it was.

He was going to kill himself after we left.

“You can call me Herb.”

“Okay. Thanks, Herb.” Carter took the beer from Dad’s shaky hand. Mom came forward and handed me a lemonade.

They sat on the couch opposite us.

“Where’s Fozzie?” I asked.

Mom rolled her eyes. “He’s in a timeout. The monster chewed up a pair of my panties.”

I waved my hand around. “Okay, moving on.”

Mom snorted, then turned to Carter… uh-oh.

“So, Carter, do you like to play with balls?” Mom asked. It wasn’t the question that unnerved me, because Carter did play with balls, it was the way Mom said it, the innuendo in her voice, and her brows rising up and down with it.

Dad gasped. “Elaine.”

“Oh my God. Kill me now, please,” I begged.

Carter just laughed it off. “I do actually. It’s worked out well for me so far.”

“I’ll say,” Dad said with a big proud grin.

I took a sip of my drink to stop myself from laughing, despite my embarrassment. However, the way Carter talked to Mom about football and with the content smile on his face, he didn’t seem to mind at all.

It put me at ease, the simple action of taking my parents as they were. Really, who was I to ask them to behave and not be themselves for someone I hardly knew? I shouldn’t have, and I was glad they weren’t… at least most of the time. But if Dad offered me up again, I was going to trip the idiot up.

A buzzer sounded, and Mom bounced up, and sang, “Dinner’s ready.”

We all made our way into the dining room. Dad helped Mom dish out the meal and bring it to the table. At first, Carter offered to help, but Dad ushered him into a seat and told him to rest. My eyes widened a fraction before I sat in my chair opposite Carter when I caught Dad leaning into Carter, as if he were either going to smell him or kiss him on the head.

“Dad!” I cried. His body jolted. “Erm, Mom needs help.”

“Right,” he said and quickly left.

Carter smirked across at me. “Since I’ve come to dinner at your parents’, I think you’ll need to come to mine. If my mom found out I was here first, she’d kick me in the ass.”

Dinner.

At his parents’ place.

Friends did do that… right?

Well, he was here, sitting at my parents’ table.

So I supposed I could do that.

I gulped. “Uh, sure?”

His smirk formed into a full grin. “Great.”

“What’s great?” Mom asked as she entered. Carter stood to help her with the tray of vegetables. She gave him a warm smile.

After he sat back down, and Dad had placed his meat tray on the table, Carter said, “I was saying to Reagan it’d be great if she came to my family’s house for dinner one night.”

They both looked from him to me. I was sure I saw Dad’s eyes tear up.

Mom cleared her throat. “So, um, you two are just friends, right?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. Then laughed nervously. “Friends. In fact, Carter and I used to go to high school together. Not that we knew each other back then, but we do now, and it’s good to have male friends. They’re… handy.” Handy? Handy for what? “For, um, you know, fixing things and, uh, stuff.”

“And for protecting,” Carter added. My parents’ gaze swung his way. A soft pink shaded his cheeks. “Because a woman can never have enough people protecting them from, you know, men and such.”

“Right,” Dad drew out, then sniffed. “Friends. It’s good.” He nodded.

“Are you gay?” Mom blurted.

Carter had just taken a drink and then choked, spraying the contents of his mouth to the table in front of him.

“Mom, you can’t ask that,” I scolded.

“Elaine, he’s not gay,” Dad growled.

Carter cleared his throat. “No, Mrs. Wild—”

“Elaine.”

Carter nodded. “Elaine, I’m not gay.”

“Okay then.” She smiled, and then looked at me and winked. I ran a hand over my face and groaned. Would I even survive the night? I wasn’t so sure.