Page 82 of The First Time

We hop out, and I do my best to straighten my slightly wrinkled clothes. I still don’t regret taking her in my truck. I could never regret a second of my time with her.

She takes my hand and leads me around the house and into the backyard, which has a large white tent. That’s one thing about Stella and Dan’s parties: They are always catered with a rented tent fit for a wedding reception.

I suppose if you have the money, it could be nice to never do any work to prep for a party, but I kind of like standing by the grill with a beer and the guys.

We spot her brothers sitting at a table under the tent along with Charlotte. Layla makes a beeline for them and immediately takes a seat next to Charlotte.

I’m so damn thankful her brothers know and are cool with it. That makes this so much easier. Maybe they’ll have my back if her parents don’t react well.

Liam looks me up and down. “What in the world are you wearing?” he asks as his head falls back with laughter.

“Seriously, dude,” Asher joins in. “Why are you in a button-down, and why is it tucked in?”

“Fuck off, assholes. We’re telling your parents about us tonight.”

I look around the yard for the full-service bar and spot it just outside the tent behind me. Thank fuck.

“I need a beer before I deal with more of your shit,” I tell them and turn around.

I’m standing behind a hoity-toity couple. The man is dressed similar to me, which makes my skin crawl, and the woman is in a fancy dress that looks like she should be at an actual wedding, not a backyard barbeque.

They order their drinks and stick a one-dollar bill in the tip jar. Classy. For all the money they are probably worth, I think they could afford more than a dollar tip, especially when they aren’t even paying for their drinks.

The bartender doesn’t seem phased as she plasters on a smile for me. “Good evening, sir. What can I get you?”

I nod my head. “Good evening. I’ll take one of those beers and a glass of your red.”

Once she gets me the drinks, I take a ten-dollar bill and place it in her jar.

I walk back to the table and hand Layla her wine while she’s animatedly talking to Charlotte.

“Sorry, Charlotte. I’d get you a drink but…” I look around me. “Do Stella and Dan know?”

She pats me on the arm. “You’re so sweet. Yes, they know. We announced to the rest of the family shortly after you got back from Italy.”

“So, you guys are telling Mom and Dad tonight?” Eric asks across the table after I take the empty seat next to Layla.

“Yeah, why?” Layla asks as she takes a sip of her wine.

Eric shrugs. “Just wondering why your man is dressed like one of the preppy douches floating around here.”

Layla sits up straight, eyebrows raised. “That’s not very nice.”

Eric has been acting more and more irritable lately. I don’t know what the hell is going on at work or in his personal life, but he’s about to snap. He’s had a rough couple of years, but it’s getting increasingly obvious that he is just getting worse, not better.

I squeeze Layla’s thigh, signaling to her to let it go. It’s not worth it right now.

“So, where are Mom and Dad?” she asks as she looks around the crowd.

“You know Mom,” Liam replies. “She’s walking around saying hello to every single guest while Dad tries his hardest to get away.”

Asher chuckles. “Sounds about right.”

“Where’s Brie?” I ask, noticing her absence.

“We hired our neighbor’s daughter to babysit her for the night. I didn’t have the energy to chase her around, nor did I want to pass her off to anyone else,” Charlotte replies.

“I would’ve watched her,” I tell her, wishing she was here. She would be a great distraction. “And how old is this babysitter?”

---