“You nervous?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the road as I navigate the winding two lane highway that leads to my hometown.

“No,” Justin says simply, looking out the window, his finger tapping against his leg in time with the radio.

“You sure about that?” I ask smirking at him, watching him from the corner of my eye and he gives me a condescending smile.

“No, Skylar, I’m not nervous,” he says slowly, as if I was dimwitted and I giggle at him.

“Not even a little? I mean you’re meeting my parents for the first time,” I prod and he shrugs.

“They’re just people, Sky,” he says but a shadow passes over his face.

“You’ll like my dad,” I say forcing my smile down. “He’ll wanna show you his shotgun collection as soon as we get there.”

Justin’s face blanches slightly but he doesn’t crack. “I grew up in Tennessee, Skylar. Everyone has guns there.”

“Oh you’re no fun,” I pout and he smirks at me from the passenger seat.

“Do you want me to be nervous?” he asks and I giggle a little.

“Well, of course not,” I sigh, shaking my head at him. We’re quiet for a moment.

“Wait,” Justin says after a moment. “Are you nervous?”

“Me?” I ask, my voice jumping an octave. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Because I’m meeting your parents for the first time,” he states simply and I scoff but my stomach ties in a knot and I realize what he’s known for a full minute before me.

“They’re going to love you,” I say nodding, my wrists flexing as I twist my clenched hands around the steering wheel.

“Damn straight,” he says nodding and I eye him. He’s such a cocky bastard.

“You’re a cocky bastard,” I smirk, not being able to stop myself.

“You love my cock,” he deadpans and I nearly crash into oncoming traffic from shock. Justin tenses. “Want me to drive babe?”

“No,” I spat and we’re silent for a moment before we both burst into giggles.

The countryside gives way to subdivisions and before I know it I’m turning onto our street and a warmness settles over me as I travel the familiar road. I pass the Jenison’s house, the marker for how far I could ride my bike when I first learned. I see the Whitikers’ mailbox is still dented from where I hit it when I was learning how to drive. I smile, the memories flooding me as I pull into our driveway, the old farmhouse weathered but cozy.

It’s a pity this is the first time Justin is seeing it, trees bare and flowers withered and gone. In the spring our front yard is a burst of color, Great Laurel bushes nestled against the wide porch, tulips lining the walk, the sugar maple trees lush and green. I unbuckle my seatbelt and Justin does the same, trotting around the back of the car to pull our bags from the trunk.

I wait for him to step up next to me before making my way up the walk, remembering games of hide and seek and summer days spent running through the sprinklers. Those days are gone now though and I shiver as the winter wind whips through my jacket. I loop my arm through Justin’s, one of the suitcases bumping my thigh but he’s warm and he feels good. He pecks my forehead as we take slow steps towards the front porch. I hear Justin snort.

“Great, now I’m nervous,” he grumbles and I laugh openly which causes him to glare at me.

“You’ll be fine, babe,” I say patting his forearm but his face is dark and he’s pouting slightly.

I stop just at the steps to the porch and rise up on my tip toes to peck his cheek, fully prepared to tell him how wonderful he is when a hard voice calls from the doorway.

“Skylar Jane! You’re past curfew young lady!”

I cringe as my mother’s warning voice floats to my ears and I look up to see her standing just outside the screen door, hands fisted on her wide hips, a smile tugging at her lips. I break into a smile, squeezing Justin’s wrist as I tug him up the steps of the wide wrap around porch, letting go only when my mother envelops me in a hug.

“It’s so good to have you home,” she whispers into my hair before pulling back and eyeing Justin, who’s setting our bags down on the top step.

“Momma,” I say, somewhat shyly, reaching to take Justin’s hand, tugging him forward. “This is Justin.”

“Hello, Mrs. McKibbons,” Justin says, his voice deep and low, the only indication he’s nervous because his smile is dazzling.

“Oh don’t be silly,” my mother says, waving away his outstretched hand and pulling him into a hug. “Call me Vivian.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her and I feel my heart swell. This is what I wanted. For him to be accepted with open arms and for her to genuinely love him, not just because I love him. I smile softly. It’s impossible not to love him.

“Well, just look at you,” my mother says pulling back finally and holding him at arms length. “Handsome thing isn’t he?” he asks me and Justin dips his head in a blush.

“Oh Momma stop!” I scold, but only half heartedly because, frankly, I agree. I wrap my arm through his, leaning into him, savoring the warmth of his body.

“Okay, okay,” my mother says, eyeing the two of us before turning back to the door. “Come on lets get inside before we catch our deaths.”

Justin lets go of my hand and picks up our bags again as we step inside, the screen door smacking shut behind us. I look around, the house relatively the same since I last came home, except for a few thanksgiving decorations here and there.

“Well, you got here just in time for dinner,” my mother says, pushing a limp curl back from her forehead as her eyes flit down the long hallway towards the kitchen. “Why don’t you take Justin upstairs and put your bags in your room?”

I nod and Justin gives my mother a small smile before turning to follow me up the stairs. He’s following close behind as I lead the way to my childhood room, moving down the hall, passing my mother’s sewing room and my parents room before stopping at a closed door at the end of the hall. The wooden placard with my name painted in bright green and blue still hangs from the push pin I’d placed there in high school.

I open the door and it’s like stepping into a time warp, taking me back to side ponytails and stonewash denim and I’m seventeen years old again, coming home from school to drop off my bag before running to Cosway’s Diner to meet my friends for some French fries and a strawberry shake. I’ll have to remember to take Justin there later.

I step inside and he stands in the doorway, looking in bemusedly and I smile at him, bidding him to enter. He steps inside and sets the bags on the foot of the bed as I instruct him, before moving around and looking at things, fingers brushing perfume bottles, reading old notes that have grown yellow tacked to my bulletin board for years. He scoffs at my shelves crammed with trophies and certificates, medals and ribbons hanging from tacks that I shoved into the wood.

“You really were an overachiever huh?” he chuckles, turning to me as I begin to unpack my suitcase and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Um, excuse me Mr. Four-Time-Grammy-Winner. I’ve seen the trophy room in your house.”

He smirks, moving to fall onto my bed, bouncing a little and the springs squeak quietly under his weight. He screws up his face and his back arches as he reaches beneath him to tug out a lump of worn gray fabric. My eyes widen in alarm.

“What do we have here?” he asks amusedly, holding the old stuffed rabbit by the ear.

“Give me that!” I say snatching at it but he swings the threadbare toy out of my grasp and my stomach lurches at his carelessness.

“Friend of yours?” he teases gently, examining the mismatched button eyes.

“Don’t hold Bun Bun by the ear!” I scold, snatching the toy and holding it against my chest, my stomach unknotting now that he is safely in my arms and a slight sense of sheepishness washes over me.

“Bun Bun?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at me and I glare at him, patting Bun Bun’s head affectionately before setting him gingerly on the chair next to the window.

“Don’t even start,” I say and he laughs openly. I smirk. “Shall we discuss your Simba pillow?”

The smile wipes right off his face and he scowls at me before grinning good naturedly. He lays against the pillows, staring at the ceiling and humming an easy tune as I unpack my things, placing them in the empty drawers, the only indication I don’t actually live here any more.

“You want me to unpack yours?” I ask and when my eyes meet his I find him staring at me intently. I freeze because I know that look.

“Am I the first guy you’ve brought home?” he asks, his fingers playing over the fine stitching of my quilt.

“Um…what?” I ask and his eyes meet mine again, smiling.

“Am I the first guy you’ve brought home to meet your parents?”

I open my mouth to protest but I snap it shut as I think back. I never allowed my high school boyfriend in the house for fear of embarrassment. I didn’t really date much in college and after that I’d met a few of my paramours’ families but they’d never met mine. Justin’s grinning widely at me and I purse my lips.

“Well, don’t you just feel so special,” I tease and he nods, his smile fading into a predatory look that makes me swallow hard.

“Am I the first boy to be in your bed?” he poses the question innocently, almost as if he were simply asking me where I had put his golf glove.

I don’t realize my mouth is hanging open until he gives me a look that causes me to snap it shut. I swallow hard as he rolls onto his side, propping his head on his hand and letting his eyes lick over my body. My eyes flick to the open door apprehensively, listening for anyone who may be just down the hall.

“Come’ere.”

My eyes snap to Justin, who’s smiling softly at me, his hand smoothing over the open space next to him and I’m thrown back into the memory of him across the room in some hotel in some city, knowing we had to get through a section. I lick my lips at the thought of what had happened next.

“Justin,” I say, warning in my voice and he gives me that innocent look that I still can’t believe he can pull off after all the things he’s done to me.

“Skylar,” he says back grinning. “Come on, we’re both grown.” He smirks. “Well…now we are.”

“Justin!” I exclaim like I always do when he refers so cheekily to our past.

“You wanna scream my name you need to get over here,” he grins and before I can even respond he darts up and snatches me to him.

I struggle against him, laughing and pushing against his chest feebly before he rolls me onto my back, pinning me against the mattress, his hips pressed flush against mine. His mouth hovers above mine and the lust in his eyes softens with affection as he nuzzles his nose with mine. He presses our mouths together, tongue dipping in lazily and my arms snake around his neck, one of my legs slipping between his. He hums softly, pulling back just slightly and I lick my lips before kissing him slowly, again and again.

“Skylar!” my mother’s voice wafts up stairs and we both freeze, muscles tensing. “Dinner’s ready!”

“Coming!” I call after a beat and Justin smirks, dipping his head to nuzzle my neck.

“Oh you will be,” he replies lowly causing my stomach to coil.

“Justin!” I giggle, pushing at his chest and he rolls off me, allowing me to sit up. “What has gotten into you?”

“I dunno, something about this room,” he says looking around, his tongue sliding against the inside of his bottom lip. “Thinking about you losing your virginity in here…”

“I did not lose my virginity in here,” I say laughing and shaking my head.

“Oh really?” he asks raising his eyebrows in a way that tells me I’m going to regret having told him that. “Then where, pray tell,” he reaches to push my hair back off my shoulder, his fingers grazing my neck just slightly, “did you lose it?”

I can feel myself beginning to blush and I stand abruptly. “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”

Justin smirks at me and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear nervously. He sighs, pulling himself from the bed and walks towards me. He leans into me, his scent enveloping me as his lips hover near my ear, not touching me at all.

“Tonight I’m going to fuck you in that bed, you know that right?”

My jaw drops and he just smirks at me, his eyes smoldering before he saunters out the door, leaving me to chase after him, dry mouthed and dazed.