I Dare You (The Line Up Book 1) by Misti Murphy

Author:Misti Murphy [Murphy, Misti]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Callan

I am so fucking nervous as I turn onto my parents’ street. For the last few weeks Hayley and I have been hanging out as friends, spending more and more time together. She comes to the bar and keeps me company between customers. I used to lose my mind when Kate-Lyn did that, but with Hayley it’s easy. Fun. Hell, I clock watch when she’s not around. Wondering if she’s coming and when she’s going to show, or when will I get to see her again.

We’ve almost finished all five seasons of Lucifer, which isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and I’d sit through it even if it was. We’ve set up half my house, with real furniture. Pieces she’s picked out though I won’t admit it. And we’ve messaged, although that’s more difficult than I would like. Pretending I’m not dying to tell her that the guy she’s so close to via text is me. Having to cut down on our chats because it would be so easy to slip up. For a few days there I was sure she was starting to cotton on. Every text seemed like she was trying to trip me up.

I need to tell her. But I want her to fall for the real life me and not some guy she’s built up in her head based on a few text conversations. I have no idea how I’ll tell her, or what her reaction will be when I do. I’m hoping it won’t make her want nothing to do with me.

Taking her to brunch is different. This isn’t just complicated, or new, this is taking her to meet my family. This is a crazy step toward telling her how I feel about her, and it is the most nerve wrecking thing I have ever done. To put it into perspective I’ve jumped out of an airplane at thirteen thousand feet. Ran for a touchdown with six seconds to go of an otherwise tied game in a packed stadium. This should be a walk in the park. Instead my heart is trying to escape my ribcage.

I pull up in front of the house I grew up in with its cottage style front garden.

“This is where we’re having brunch?” she asks as she climbs off the back of my bike and hands me her helmet.

“Did I forget to mention it was at my parents?”

She gapes. “We’re having brunch with your family?”

“Unfortunately, Sunday brunch is law around here, and if I don’t show up on time, Stella, that’s my stepmom, will send out a search party.” It’s only a little white lie. Truth is I only miss brunch on very rare occasions, and every single time I end up with a gallon of chicken soup, thank you very much, and my father on the phone reminding me to stock up on witch hazel. His remedy for everything.

“This is your parents’ house?” She balks on the sidewalk. “Are you sure they won’t mind you bringing me?”

I take her hand.

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