Page 32 of The Neighbor's Son

“Always.”

“Me and Casey have done some things,” I say slowly, heat creeping up my neck, “but not that.”

Savvy snorts out a laugh. “What’s that?”

“Sex,” I grumble. “Why do you have to be annoying? You know what I was talking about.”

“It’s fun watching you get all embarrassed.” She grins wickedly at me. “Go on, lover boy.”

“Anyway,” I say dryly, “I want to make the night special for her without being creepy. I’ve cooked for her some, but I think I should take her out someplace nice like a real man would.”

“First of all,” she says firmly, “you’re a real man. You fingerbanged Casey Monroe and she gave you a blowjob. Own that, big man.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I already regret giving her the dirty details on the way to school this morning.

“Second of all, wherever you take her, she’ll be happy. But…”

“But?”

“You should take her to Smoke & Sugar tonight. I’ll be on shift. I could see you in action.”

I chuff out a laugh. “My action is awkward as fuck Sav. I don’t need an audience for that.”

“She obviously thinks the awkwardness is hot.” She bats her dark lashes at me. “I’m kidding about watching you, though. For real. You need to take her there. We have the best desserts.”

“She’s on a diet.”

She gapes at me as if I have three heads. “Boy, no. Wrong answer.”

“But—”

“I said no. When it’s the two of you, cook her the healthy crap. But, when you take her out, the diet stuff flies out the window. Treat the woman. Let her make the decision to abstain or not. Otherwise, it totally comes off as douchey for you to keep her from the super yummy treats at Smoke & Sugar.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know you meant well,” Savvy says with a patient sigh. “You’re adorably inexperienced with everything, including boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. Do you even know how to fuck your woman? Should we have the birds and the bees talk?”

Thankfully the bell for the end of lunch period puts a halt tothatconversation.

“Bye, Savvy.”

“Bye, boner boy!”

I’m going to kill my best friend.

Why am I nervous?

This isn’t our first date.

And yet, I’m anxiously pacing my living room, waiting until the time I told her I’d pick her up. I’ve already peeked out the window and know she’s home, most likely getting ready to go out with me.

“Everything okay?”

I nearly jump out of my skin when Dad walks into the room. Did he prowl down the stairs like a creep so he could come up behind me?

“Dad,” I bark out, whirling around to face him. “What the hell?”

Amusement makes the corners of his lips twist. Dad isn’t a super smiley guy, so it’s rare to see it. Normally, I’d think that was cool, but since it’s at my expense, I’m not loving the humor.

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