Arlo

8.

On our way back to our respective childhood homes, it feels just as it always does. We're arguing over what music to play, she's poking me in my dimples to annoy me, the only difference is that she's tugging on the ends of my hair until I lean over to let her kiss me. "You're so annoying, I swear." I chuckle, rolling my eyes, fondly. "But you still love me." She sing-songs, batting her lashes at me. I can't help the smile that breaks across my face as I lean over to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, replying with, "yeah, I do." I park in my mother's driveway, looking over at Alita, the nerves getting to me. "So, what do we do?" I ask her. She chews on her bottom lip, looking back to me, her eyes seeing into my soul. "Well, I have to come in and say hello, otherwise she'll know that something is up." She says, I nod my response, leaning over the center console to dance my lips against her jaw, my breath tickling the skin there. "Maybe, we could take a trip to my room." I jest, licking along her throat. She gifts me with a breathless chuckle before pulling away, slightly, "not now. Definitely later, though." She replies, rewarding me with a chaste kiss that feels more like a punishment. I follow after her when she climbs out of the car. My mother envelops her in a crushing embrace as soon as we step through the door. "my girl is home!" she shouted, grinning ear to ear. "Hi, momma." Alita replied, playing into my mother's dream of having a daughter. "Does your actual child get some of that love?" I tease, pouting. The look on Lita's face tells me that she wants to grasp my face to press a kiss to my lips, the way she always does when I pout at her, but she fists her hands at her sides, instead. "Oh, come here. How do you deal with him all the time?" my mother jests, pressing a noisy kiss to my cheek. We spend time chatting and having coffee with my mother before I feel about ready to climb into Lita's lap. "Okay, we need to tell you something." I huff out, breathless with the desire to hold her the way I do at home. "You don't have to." My mom answers, a knowing smirk on her face. "Matty—" "No, I could tell by the way that you two are acting. I've seen her reach for your hand more than once and the way that you're looking at her is more obvious than it used to be." "more obvious than it used to be?" I ask, incredulous. "Oh, goodness, he thought he was being discreet? Arlo, my sweet boy, you always had hearts dancing in your eyes whenever she was around." I fight against the blush that has started to color my throat and cheeks. Alita laughs, covering her face with her hands before resting her chin in her hand to gaze over at me. "Wonder if my mom knew as well." She tells me. "Oh, she did. We were always wondering when you two would stop playing games." Alita barks out a laugh before moving to sit closer to me, resting a hand on my thigh, her eyes sparkling over at me. "Shall we go tell her?" she asks me, tongue peeking out of her mouth for a second to lick across her plump lips. "Yeah, unless Matty has already spoiled the surprise." I respond, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She blushes and I swear that I can feel the color in her cheeks against my lips. "I'll leave you to it, then." My mother says, trying and failing to hide a smile from us.

Hand in hand, we make our way across my lawn to the pristine mahogany door that separates us from the chaos that is her house full of people. "Are we sure about this?" she queries, a nervous grin on her face. "Are you going to stand on the porch all day or do you plan on actually coming in at some point?" Matty shouts from the other side of the door. I laugh, shaking my head. "Definitely going to my room." I cheek, which earns me a light punch to the stomach and an eye roll. "Is that my daughter that is coming in the house?" "Hi, momma!" she called, much the same greeting that she had gifted my own mother with. "Arlo, sweet boy, it's so lovely to see you." She greeted me, wrapping me in a motherly embrace and patting her hand against my cheek. "Do I hear my only daughter in here?" her father asks, rounding the corner from the living room to the foyer. "Hi, old man!" she called, wrapping her arms around her father's frame. "Arlo, good to see you; how is your mother?" "You live next door." Alita points out, shaking her head with a fond eye roll. "Just making conversation." He responds with a chuckle. "So, are we all just going to keep standing in the foyer or am I allowed up to my room?" Alita quips, snorting at their responses. "I'll go grab your bag for you, love." I tell her, mentally slapping myself for letting the pet name fall so easily from my lips.