“Again… don’t tell your mom you know,” Dad interjected. “She doesn’t want you to get any ideas.”
Shaking my head, I groaned. “I’m a teenager. Of course I’ll get ideas. Sometimes Mom is in as much denial as Uncle Trey.”
Dad smirked at my statement. “Trey is a bigger hypocrite than your mother. She’s a mom. It’s her job. Trey, on the other hand…” Dad shook his head. “He’s all about ‘do as I say and not as I did.’”
“Dinner!” Grandpa called from the patio door. My siblings and cousins all charged across the yard and followed him into the house before we had a chance to even stand.
“Do you think they’re hungry?” Uncle Evan asked with a smirk.
I laughed over that truth. “Can you blame them?”
Two steps through the door, the heavenly aroma of sauce and garlic hit so hard my own stomach rumbled in anticipation.
God, I loved this day.
I found Alivia in the kitchen helping to carry huge platters of food to the massive dining room table where we all would sit—another rule of Grandpa’s: we had to eat together.
“Do you need help?”
“Just go take a seat, sweetheart,” my grandmother said.
I did as she asked, finding a chair a few away from the noisy bunch at the so-called “kids’ section.” A few minutes later, Alivia smiled when she slipped into her chair beside me. She loved coming to these dinners as much as I did, but not because of the great food. Hanging out with my mom and Aunt Lizzy, discussing some reality show they all obsessed over or the latest romance novel that had just been released, was right up her alley.
Alivia adored being with my family. She always thought my mom and Uncle Evan’s backstory should’ve been made into a movie. I had to agree that their soap opera–ish history was quite a tale. Add in the fact that Uncle Evan had married Dad’s sister, and that layered another level of irony. Overall, we were one big, blended family, and Alivia loved being a part of it.
There wasn’t an inch of the table visible beneath a feast fit for a kingdom. Once Grandma Barb ensured every one of her grandkids were properly served, she said grace, and that was our cue to dive in.
Not paying much attention to conversation, my one and only goal was to work through all the ravioli, meatballs, and garlic bread my plate could hold. I had just shoved another homemade meatball into my mouth when I heard my mom ask, “Can you guys watch the kids on Wednesday and Thursday at our place?”
“Of course,” Grandma Barb said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah… we just found out DL needs to fly to Chicago.”
“Oh, yeah,” Uncle Evan tagged on while staring at his wife. “I forgot to tell you that. I’ll be in Chicago this week.” Aunt Lizzy merely rolled her eyes at him.
Where my reaction was more like, Wait… what?
Having heard what I heard, Alivia pressed her thigh against mine as Mom went on to explain.
Long story short… last year, my parents had decided to donate a wing in the New Jersey hospital where my grandmother Marie had been a nurse before she died. A ribbon-cutting ceremony had already been planned when construction had been completed this September. By some sheer stroke of luck, something happened to something structural that caused something to be delayed with some kind of permit… or something along those lines. I wasn’t a good listener.
But where it affected Alivia and me, I paid attention. Basically, that delay had caused a chain reaction, pushing back the ceremony to where it would conflict with a commitment Devil’s Lair had made to perform in Chicago. Which meant they had rescheduled that concert for this fucking week.
In other words, Alivia and I could finally have sex.
Trying not to raise a fist in the air and yell, “Thank Christ,” I continued eating in silence. The gods would finally have pity on me… well, not so much me as my blue balls.
“I bet those contractors are responsible for the delay,” Grandpa said with a scowl. “It always has to do with money.”
“I doubt that, Dad,” my mom said, rolling her eyes. “Things happen.”
He took the project very personally and was emotionally invested in this situation. Grandma Marie had died in a car accident when Mom was only ten. A tiny part of me felt bad about placing my selfish agenda ahead of all else. I adored my grandfather and wanted him to be happy. In my defense, the entire project wouldn’t be trashed. It was simply a small setback.
Beneath the tablecloth, I searched for Alivia’s hand and squeezed it in mine. It was a profoundly wordless statement.
Three days until we got laid.
A long discussion had occurred between our parents and us regarding our safety. While Devil’s Lair traveled to Chicago, we’d miraculously convinced them we’d be very careful and would stay close to home. After an exhausting debate, Alivia and I were left without Alec shadowing us, provided we agree to one condition added by Trey. Forcing his daughter to sleep in one of our guest rooms while my grandparents were in the other one wouldn’t stop me.
The Taylors’ apartment was empty and around the corner. A daytime fuck was just as effective as a nighttime one.
So, after informing my grandparents that we were meeting our friends at the movies, Alivia and I headed right for her building. It wasn’t a lie. I just bent the truth a bit, claiming the movie started earlier than it would.
“Mr. Shane. Miss Alivia. How are you on this fine day?” Walter asked, tipping his hat to us in his formal way.
“We’re good. Heading to the movies, but Alivia forgot a jacket,” I offered so Alivia wouldn’t have to.
“Oh, those theaters can be quite chilly.” The phone rang, thankfully pulling his attention away. “Excuse me… the Clairmont.”
Meanwhile, Alivia pushed the elevator button repeatedly until it appeared. Once we were safely tucked inside, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“See… easy.” I pulled her into my arms. “Your dad underestimates my horniness.”
She suppressed a smile. “It’s so stupid. My dad has me feeling like a criminal.”
“It’s his way of busting my balls in hopes I’ll keep them away from you.”
Honestly, it had become a game of sorts between Trey and me. Actually, it went beyond us. Since the day I’d first kissed Alivia when I was ten and she was nine, it had created a mini war between our dads. More than a decade later, Trey remained consistent in his goal of intimidation. And Dad played his part by pushing Trey’s buttons as much as possible.
I’d respectfully play along… at least until Alivia turned eighteen in February. Then all bets were off. Why that was the magic age for her father, I had no idea. Age was just a number. My girl was far more mature and smarter than her seventeen years suggested. After all, she had skipped the third grade.
“It’s dumb. He has us resorting to lying to an old man.”
“We merely bent the truth. Walter has five minutes before his shift ends. He’ll never know what time we left with your sweater.” I had purposefully timed it that way. The man had a big mouth. He didn’t mean to narc us out but inevitably always would. Personally, I had a theory that Trey knew just how to prod him to get information.