Page 83 of Spring Tide

“My parents are a little overbearing, but they mean well.” I anxiously tap my fingers against the center console, one hand braced on the steering wheel. “They’ll probably hound you with questions about me.”

Her hand covers mine, instantly settling my nerves. “And what should I tell them?”

“Whatever you want.” I flip my palm to intertwine our fingers. “Just don’t mention my injury, obviously. They’d go postal.”

My parents have six offspring, so they’re familiar with all sorts of aches and tears and sprains. I wouldn’t call them protective, necessarily, but my mom thinks I’m too hard on myself already. She projects that energy onto my dad, who then forces Taylor to look after me.

I’m already an adult man living with his older sister. There’s no part of me that requires three separate parental figures, especially when it comes to problems I can solve myself.

“Easy enough.”

“My brother, Elio, is likely gonna be in a bad mood. I promise it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

Elio’s pretty much always in a sour mood these days. At least, he is whenever I’m around. He seems angry at the world in general, for reasons I can’t even begin to understand. It’s not like he has anything concrete to complain about. Our parents are practically saints, and our younger siblings are perfect.

“Noted,” she says with a soft smile.

“The twins, Mia and Vivia, they’ll probably just be doing their own thing all night. They like to hide out in their room to play video games or whatever. My mom usually makes them something special for dinner and brings it to them. It’s ridiculous.”

“How old are they?”

“They’re turning fourteen in a few months. I didn’t realize how scary middle schoolers could be until last year.”

“Hey!” She pins me with a harsh look. Or her best attempt at one anyway. “Those hormone fluctuations can be really tough on a young girl.”

I stifle a laugh at her expression. “I believe you.”

We round the corner, slowly pulling into my parents’ driveway. A prickle of irritation dots up my spine as I take note of Elio’s missing car. He won’t pick up my calls, and now he’s missing from our family dinner? The kid clearly doesn’t give a shit about me.

“And your youngest sister?”

I turn my attention back to Harper. “Giorgie’s non-speaking, so she uses her iPad as a communication device. She’ll probably warm up to you pretty fast, though.”

“Sounds good.” She squeezes my hand, gesturing toward the front entrance. “I think I’m ready to go in now.”

A wave of discomfort washes over me. “Okay.”

“Areyouready?

“Yes,” I say unsteadily, the nerves still racketing around my brain. I’ve never intentionally introduced a girl to my family before. With Sofia, the two of us were friends long before we were romantically involved. It was a natural, slow progression from acquaintances to friends to dating, and my family was involved from the get-go.

“You don’t need to be nervous, Luca.” Her tone is sweet, reassuring, and it serves to ease a tiny fraction of my anxiety. “I swear I’ll make a good impression. Ihavemet people before, you know.”

“I’m not worried about that.” I awkwardly rub at the back of my neck. “I, uh, I want you to like them.”

“I’m sure I’ll love them.”

She releases my right hand to lean over the center console, pulling me in for a kiss as her fingers caress my jawline. When she leans back, her eyes shine with a mixture of cool gray and ocean blue. It’s a familiar, calming sight.

“Let’s go, then.”

When we enter the house, hands linked, my mom immediately wraps us into a group hug. She sways back and forth on her heels, pulling back with a smile that stretches from ear to ear.

“We are so happy you’re home,caro. Harper, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You too, Mrs. Reynolds,” Harper says cheerfully, her wide smile lighting up the entryway. “Thank you for letting me tag along tonight.”

“Please, call me Gia. My husband, Greg, is in the kitchen chopping garlic.” She ushers us both inside, nudging us toward the hallway. “Why don’t you two go say hi to the girls and then head into the dining room?”

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