Page 76 of Fairy Tale Lies
He wasn’t complaining. Hell. No.
“Ouch! You ladies are brutal.” Miguel grasped his chest, hand to heart, faking outrage. “But I’ll talk. Only because I know I’ll get sympathy from my man Jacob, right?”
Jacob thumped Miguel’s fist from across the table in solidarity while also trying to hold back Greta’s wandering hand. The last thing he needed was a raging hard-on. It’d make standing to leave a tad awkward.
“Okay. Susan and I met in an Art History class. The professor was a complete windbag. However, the in-class assignments were fun and,” he faced his fiancée, giving her a playful leer, “it gave me plenty of time to talk up the sexy woman sitting next to me.”
She shoved him playfully and took over the story. “He was into me, big time. I played it cool. Anyway, one day he came to class wearing a Lakeside Riptide shirt. They’re a local college band I happen to love. Getting tickets to their shows is next to impossible. I mentioned this to Miguel, and the next lecture he has two tickets.”
“Man, you don’t even want to know what I paid for those scalped tickets,” Miguel cut back in. “Robbery. Anyway, when Susan agreed to go with me, it was worth every penny.” That earned him a loud kiss on the cheek from his fiancée. “We agreed I’d pick her up at her parents’ house. Summer break started the weekend of the concert, and she was already home.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “He arrived late and honked the horn, and instead of coming to the door and introducing himself to my parents.”
“Aw man,” Jacob interrupted, shaking his head. “Now I’m not sure I can be sympathetic. Really? The first time at her parents’ house?”
“Screw you, man,” Miguel said defensively, without ire. “I called Susan ahead of time because I got caught in traffic and was running late. She should’ve been waiting outside. She didn’t want to miss any of the concert either.”
“Oh, believe me, Jacob is not one to judge,” Greta interjected, a slight slur to her words. “Speaking of the first time at a parents’ home and screwing—”
“Hey, hey, this is Miguel and Susan’s story,” Jacob said hastily, scooting Greta’s drink away and signaling the waiter for water.
Miguel’s scarred brow shot up. “Oh no, I’d rather hear this.”
“Well,” started Greta.
Shit. Exactly how much alcohol has she consumed?
“No. No more Greta and Jacob stories tonight.” Jacob covered Greta’s mouth, and the other couple laughed.
The waiter stopped at their table. Jacob asked to switch their drinks for waters.
“Fine,” Susan smirked. “I’ll get it from Greta later.”
“As long as I’m not around,” Jacob muttered.
“Okay, fine. I’ll rescue your tipsy girlfriend from telling too many secrets,” Miguel chuckled.
“Thanks. And I’m sure when she’s sober, she’ll thank you too.”
Miguel snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “Anyway, after honking, who should appear? My lovely date and her pissed-off mother. Mother stalks to my car and says, ‘No boy honks for my daughter! Come to the door and introduce yourself.’”
Jacob laughed. “Damn, she told you. Were you a good boy and got out?”
“No. Luckily, by this time, Susan had come around and was getting into the passenger seat, telling her mom we needed to leave pronto. I muttered some half-assed apology and hauled ass, the burn of her mother’s disapproving glare following me all the way to the concert.”
“That’s not too bad.”
“Oh, it gets worse,” insisted Susan, giggling.
“Yup,” Miguel agreed. “The concert was great. We had a fantastic time. It ran late, and we arrived at her house sometime after two. No big deal, right? Anyway, I was enjoying our goodbye kiss until the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I was certain Death was standing behind me. Twisting around, I came face to face with a massive, irate man. I thought he was the freakin’ Grim Reaper. I nearly pissed myself. Turns out it was Susan’s father.”
“Aww hell, close enough,” Jacob sympathized.
“True that. Dad Reaper booms something along the lines of, ‘you bring my daughter back in the middle of the night smelling of drink and marijuana. Then molest her on my front porch, for the whole neighborhood to see!’”
“Damn. What did you do?”
“I mumbled something about the weed not being mine and the concert running late. He didn’t say a word, only continued to stare at me like he was mapping the best place to bury my body. Susan saved my ass by shouting a quick good night and pulling her father into the house.” Miguel sighed. “Needless to say, it took a while for them to warm to me.”
