School had ended, and I was headed over to my Civic. I had my school bag flung over one shoulder, but my math textbook was in my left hand.
This was all very typical.
However, my right hand was interlaced in Jake’s, which was most definitely not typical. He was coming over to have dinner with my parents tonight (a recent stipulation of my mother that had gone into effect when she discovered I had a boyfriend), but he was driving home with me to do homework/hang out. I was excited, but a trifle nervous too. I hoped my parents wouldn’t question him too extensively.
After awhile of walking in silence, Jake interrupted my thoughts with a laugh, “You look extremely nervous. What’s wrong?”
“I’m a little worried my parents might scare you off,” I admitted, blushing.
He just laughed again, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer as we reached my car. His lips found mine and then he chuckled again, his breath tickling my skin and sending tingles down my spine, “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured.