Page 97 of Iced Out

“I don’t wanna freak you out or anything…” I start, not completely certain if I should act on this impulse without running it by my family first. But the feeling in my chest outweighs the warning in my brain, and I push forward anyway. “I have dinner with my parents and brother tomorrow night, and I was wondering if you wanted to go?”

It’s impossible to miss the way his spine stiffens.

“You want me to meet your parents? Your brother?”

He says it like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. And then I realize the offer sounds a lot like something a boyfriend would do, not just a…whatever we are.

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Not in that way, or anything. It’s just dinner.”

The look on his face is still one of utter disbelief, now mixing with a hint of uncertainty. His eyes shift between mine, and I can tell he’s trying to work through what brought this on. Why I’d throw yet another wrench into things, once again blurring the lines and the rules when they were working perfectly fine before.

And from the crease still etched in his forehead, he’s not finding any answers.

A knot forms in my throat, and I wet my lips before looking away, suddenly feeling way too transparent for my liking. “It’s probably a bad idea, right?”

“No, it’s…” His words trail off.

“Just forget I said anything. Seriously.”

He shakes his head. “Oak, no. I wanna go, I do. I’m just a little confused about how this’ll work.”

And now I’m the one who’s confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your parents aren’t blind like mine. They’ve seen us fight and bicker and come to blows for years. And you expect them to just sit down and have dinner with me?”

Understanding dawns on me, and while his worries are valid, there’s one important thing he’s seemed to forget.

“We’re not those people anymore, Quinn.”

“I know that, but do they?” He pauses, a sharp laugh coming from him. “And what, you’d be bringing me as…your superstitious fuck buddy? I’m sure your parents would love that.”

I know he filled the end of his sentence with the most ridiculous option for a reason. So I’d correct him, letting me fill in the blank so he’d know exactly where I stand.

The problem is, I don’t know where that is.

Or maybe the real issue is I do, but screwing with the status quo is the last thing we should do. Not now, when things between us are in a good place.

Maybe this is a bad idea after all.

But I don’t listen to the thoughts worming their way into my head, and keep pushing forward.

“I can introduce you as whatever you want. My rival. My teammate. My friend.” Blue eyes flash up to meet my gaze and he rolls his lip between his teeth. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him, but I refuse to let it deter me. “Just Quinn could work too.”

He’s silent, mulling the options over in his head. But when thirty seconds pass and he still hasn’t said anything, a rush of anxiety courses through me.

“It’s your family,” he finally says. “It should be whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Again, leaving it open-ended, allowing me to fill the gaps. Keeping the control of this whole relationship squarely in my hands.

In the exact place—I’m starting to realize—I don’t want it.

Twenty-Seven

Quinton

“What are you doing?”

I glance from the mirror I was using to knot my tie over to where Oakley is standing in my doorway dressed in…jeans.

---