"When are you going to visit your parents?" I ask for the second time as we drive toward Quincy's apartment for a barbecue a few days later. I'm so nervous that I keep asking the same questions over and over because I can't seem to retain the answers.
Rowen glances over at me and takes my hand. "Next week. And would you stop being so nervous? It's gonna be fun."
I try to take a deep breath but I don't feel like I'm getting enough air. "That's easy for you to say. You're not about to put yourself in a room with a few dozen women that want to rip your hair out."
He snickers. "Another plus for the beanie." I shoot him a death glare. He squeezes my hand in response. "Tiff, we were invited."
"No, you were invited."
"And they all know we're together so they know you're coming, too." He pulls my hand up and kisses my palm. The feeling shoots goose pimples up and down my arm. "Besides, Quincy is always nice to you, right?"