Page 70 of The First Love Myth

Chapter 51

Zoey

Iadjust Max’s tie for the third time. Dad and his girlfriend, Robin, are running late. Professors, seriously.

Max swats at my hand. “It’s straight, Zee. Geez. Why are you so nervous?”

“You’re meeting my dad.”

“Yes,” he says, twirling a piece of my hair around his finger. “Not a big deal.”

When Dad suggested that I bring Max to this dinner to get all the introductions out of the way at once, it seemed a reasonable idea. He wants eyes on Max before I leave, considering he won’t be around to chaperone. As if I didn’t spend the last year practically living with Andrew. But get an older boyfriend with his own apartment, and suddenly there are rules.

I pull Max in by his tie and kiss him. My entire body jumps to life. The decision to wait to sleep together was a smart one. I know that in my mind, but with him standing there all dressed up, I wish we were back at his apartment, with me undoing his shirt button by button while his hand slowly unzips my dress and his fingers skim down my spine, making my toes curl.

“Whoa.” Max stares at me in amusement. “What dirty thing was I just doing in your head?”

I blink away the fantasy. He’s too good at reading me much too soon. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a fantasy. We have all night and all weekend and so much more time. He smiles downat me, his fingers again playing with an errant curl. A pulse runs through me, and my heart speeds up. I lean into his hand, watching him watch me.

“I love you,” I say and mean it. Mean it in a way I didn’t think possible after this summer.

The way he kisses me then is far too indecent for this restaurant, especially while we’re waiting for my dad, but I don’t care. I love Max. I don’t know when it happened. Maybe in this instant. That finger on my hair, those eyes reading into my soul. Maybe it was when he said I wasn’t a fling or when we spent the whole night making out and watching that stupid show and talking until three in the morning before I passed out on his bed fully clothed. Maybe it was when I woke up in his arms that next morning. Thewhendoesn’t matter, really, only that we’re here.

“Good,” he says. “Because I love you too.”

I pull him back in by the tie for another round before a too-familiar throat clearing sounds behind me. Crap.I turn around quickly, keeping a hand in Max’s. “Hey, Dad.”

He eyes me and Max warily, but he only holds out his hand. “I’m Patrick, Zoey’s father. I hope you’re Max.”

Max adjusts his tie and takes Dad’s hand, a smile breaking through the tension on his face. No big deal. What a liar he is. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

I focus on the woman standing next to Dad. She’s petite and brunette and beautiful. Behind her glasses, funky square rims in a flaming red, her blue eyes sparkle.

“Zoey,” Robin says, breaking the standoff between the men. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Your dad talks about you all the time.”

I nod. “It’s nice to know you exist.”

“Shall we?” Dad asks hurriedly and takes Robin’s hand. “I’m sure we’re already dreadfully late for our reservation.”

Robin blushes. “I know, I know. But I discovered...” She trails off at the amused look on Dad’s face. “Right, dinner.”

I hold in a laugh, but a huge smile breaks through. They’re two peas in a pod.

We’re nearly through with dinner when Dad turns to me with a tentative smile. “We have some news.”

My eyes narrow.News?There’s no engagement ring on her finger. “Okay?”

He takes Robin’s hand, and I in turn take Max’s, my pulse kicking up a beat. “Robin’s going to be moving in with us.”

I blink, the news sinking in. Dad has a girlfriend, and she’s moving in.Whoa.I always wondered when that might happen until I concluded it never would. But here we are. And Robin is lovely. She’s vibrant and intelligent and everything Dad needs. Dad’s glowing, and for the first time, perhaps ever, I see him as the world sees him, as another person and not only a dad. He’s so in love. The glint in his eye and the way he says Robin’s name—how did I never notice a change?

“Dad,” I say, sliding my hand into his, “I’m happy for you.”

He squeezes my hand. “You’re really okay with someone moving in?”

I shrug. “I’ve had you to myself for seventeen years. It’s time I shared.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel that way because it’s not only Robin.”

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