I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. “Today was nice,” I said after a moment.
“You mean it?” he asked.
“I do,” I nodded. “I didn’t expect to be working a shift in your restaurant, meeting your whole family and getting recruited by your son all in one day but…” I laughed softly. “It was nice.”
He laughed too. “Melo doesn't waste any time.”
“Clearly,” I smiled. “He’s adorable, Remy.”
“Isn't he,” he said, pride slipping into his voice easily. I could picture his face when he said it. That soft look he got when he talked about his son. “He really liked you,” he added.
My chest warmed. “I really liked him too.”
There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “My parents liked you too,” he said.
That made my brows lift. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he continued. “My pops is always chill. My mama is a little more hesitant. She doesn't say much when she doesn't like someone, so the fact she said anything at all…that’s a good sign.”
I let out a small breath, not realizing I had been holding a bit of tension around that. "What if she didn't like me?" I asked.
"I'm grown, Gianna," he replied firmly. "While I would like her approval, it doesn’t dictate my relationship."
I tried to bite back the grin as if he could see it. “That makes me really happy to hear,” I said softly.
“But…you handled that real smooth today anyway,” he added. “Being a server. Meeting my family. It was effortless.”
I smiled to myself. “I told you, I know how to work a room.”
“You do more than that.”
Something in his voice made my stomach flip. I swallowed lightly. “What’s does that mean?”
“It means…” he trailed off slightly, like he was choosing his words. “You don’t feel out of place anywhere—not even in my world. As unexpected as today was…it felt like you belonged there.”
I stared up at the ceiling, letting that sit with me. Hearing him say that meant something.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. "Do you see me there—your world? Your family. Your life."
He exhaled slowly. "It wouldn't be just mine, Gianna. It would be ours. All of it. And I'm ready to blend yours with mine whenever you're comfortable. I won't force you to share what you're not ready too though."
My eyes fluttered closed in gratitude. This man. This amazing, gentle, patient man. He was a rare breed. "I want to share it with you. I just don’t want to make you feel—turned off."
His breath hit the line. "You don't have to share the nuances, but just like you did now—telling me about today, we can do that. If I'm stepping both feet into your world I have to be ready for what comes with it."
"And you are?" I asked again.
"After today…my whole body is planted, beautiful. I'm here."
His words settled deep in my chest, warm and heavy in a way that made it hard to breathe for a second. I smiled to myself, tucking my hand under my cheek as I sank further into the pillows. “Okay,” I whispered softly. “I'll keep that in mind moving forward.”
“Please do, because it’s the truth,” he replied. "I want to be involved."
I believed him. I believed every single thing that came out of his mouth. Nothing about him made me feel guarded or uneasy. Matter of fact, I had never felt more relaxed. It felt like he could hold all my truth's and handle them with care and intention. “Idon’t want to mess this up,” I admitted quietly. “Whatever this is…us. I don’t wanna be the reason it goes left.”
“You won’t be,” he said simply.
“You don’t know that,” I murmured.