Free Let's Be Frank by Brea Brown

Wanktown.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
    “Okay, so… um… here’s the thing. My parents…”
    “Yeah, I know. They’re psychologists.”
    “Psychiatrists.”
    “Yeah, whatever.”
    I sigh. This is going to be a long afternoon.
    She looks around the big brick porch, where we’re shivering as I deliver my final disclaimers before she meets Mom and Dad. “Nice house,” she declares. “‘Crazy’ pays well.”
    “They do okay,” I admit, trying to refocus her attention on me. Finally, I grip her upper arms and bend my knees so our eyes are level. “Hey. Just… Listen for a second, alright? I don’t want you to be blindsided by anything in there.” I bob my head over my shoulder toward the front door. “They don’t really believe in… boundaries.”
    “You’ve already told me they’re quirky. Trust me, when you meet my parents you’ll understand why quirky doesn’t faze me.”
    She tries to kiss me, but I pull my head back. I’m not in the mood for making out on my parents’ front porch.
    “Yeah, okay. Everyone says that. Then they meet my parents, who say and ask some pretty intrusive, personal things, and they get pissed off because I wasn’t more specific, so—”
    She laughs. “What? Are they going to ask us about our sex life?”
    My steady eye contact is all the confirmation she needs.
    It makes her laugh harder and louder. “Seriously?”
    I nod.
    “Well, that’s an easy one. I’m saving myself for marriage.”
    I gulp, not sure whether to feel relieved or devastated. “You are?”
    She shrugs like it’s no big deal nowadays. “Yeah.”
    “But you’re not…”
    Waving away her long-lost virginity like a pesky fly that’s managed to survive weeks of freezing weather, she says, “I have had sex before, yes. But…” Now she cuddles up to me, pushing me against the front door. “I think you’re special. And I think… I mean, maybe it would ruin everything if we had sex.”
    “I’m not so sure about that…”
    “Well, I am. Why do you think I haven’t already tried to jump your bones?” She twines her arms around my neck and breathes against my jaw. Her hot breath leaves a moist patch there.
    Lizard brain kicks in. “Uh… Well… I hadn’t thought much about it,” I lie. “I just thought, you know, we were taking things slow.”
    “We are. Really slow.” Her voice is little more than a growl. “And it’s hard. I think about it all the time. But I think the wait will be worth it.”
    She kisses me, soft and slowly at first, then hard and hungry. I moan, and she smiles against my lips, obviously aware of what she’s doing to me and enjoying it.
    Suddenly, the door behind me swings open, almost causing me to fall backwards into my parents’ foyer.
    “Oh, sorry!” Mom chirps. “I heard something out here and thought it was the Sunday paper being delivered.”
    “At 1:00?” I question, maintaining my balance by hanging onto the edge of the sidelight. I also have a handy counterbalance now sticking from the front of me, but I hope nobody notices… or at least they pretend not to notice.
    Frankie tucks her hair behind her ear and extends her hand. “Hi. I’m Frankie.”
    Mom shakes the proffered hand with a sheepish smile. “I’m Yvonne. And I didn’t really think you guys were the Sunday paper.”
    While I regain my footing, Frankie nods and bites her bottom lip. “Well, I see Nate comes by his honesty naturally.”
    I sigh, chagrined we couldn’t even get through the introductions before things got weird.
    “Oh, don’t start sighing already,” Mom implores on her way past me into the house. “Please, come in. Lunch is ready.”
    Frankie kisses my cheek as she follows Mom. “Relax,” she whispers in a husky voice that has the exact opposite effect on me.
    Thirty minutes later, over post-lunch coffees, Frankie listens raptly to Mom and Dad pontificate about birth order… and how it relates to Nick and me.
    “We tried to avoid all that