Taylor vs Reid (GxG)

Part 8 - {Parental inquisitions}

It felt like every day since I said yes to dating Reilly; I have had to remind myself of it. I had to remind myself that I made this move, this was my doing and I could not back out now because suddenly, it seemed very scary. Of course, it was scary but that look on Reilly's face, that overjoyed genuinely happy smile was stained in my mind and I didn't want it to go away.

Plus...she wasn't all that bad.

Friday night, I barely slept. Between the nightmares and the anxiety from anticipating our dinner with my parents, there was no room for sleeping. It was worse than the anxiety of having Reilly in my bed Wednesday night. That had been my mistake. We had shared a bed and I...could not sleep at all with her that close to me.

I sighed. Now, there I was lying in bed again and most of the time, I was just chewing my nails and reminding myself yet again that we were really dating. Like, we had put a label on it. We were dating. Me and Reilly. Of all two people.

Holy shit!

My phone pinged, and I threw down the book I was unsuccessfully reading to grab the device up. There was a message from her.

Rei
Good morning beautiful
7:50 am

Prettiest fucking girl😍
Morning. How are you?

Rei
I'm good and u? How did u slp?

Prettiest fucking girl😍
Okay, I guess.

Rei
...

Rei
Why do u lie about it?

Prettiest fucking girl😍
Well, because I don't wanna bother you with the same bullshit every time, Reilly 😞

Rei
It's not bullshit, Drew

Rei
I genuinely want to knw every time I ask and I'd appreciate it if u tell me it like it is. It's not bullshit and it's not a bother.

Prettiest fucking girl😍
Okay

Prettiest fucking girl😍
It was terrible😣

Prettiest fucking girl😍
Where's my breakfast?

Rei
Wow! Can't u give me like 5 mins? Jeez.

Prettiest fucking girl😍
You're the one who spoiled me.

My doorbell rang and I went to open it. Reilly greeted me with a bright smile. She was wearing a burnt orange tank top with a pair of denim shorts and my eyes had trouble staying on her face. She turned around to close the locks behind her before acknowledging me. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Shall we?" She asked, leading the way over to my kitchen.

I followed. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," she revealed. "I hope you like them."

"I generally do like pancakes," I assured, grabbing two plates from the cupboards to set down on the counter.

"Tell me more," she said, unboxing our breakfast.

"Well, I don't like waffles because I don't like the grooves on them," I told her more. "And I don't like butter on my pancakes because I always feel so guilty afterwards, but I do like it on there maybe once a year cause it tastes really good. But it feels so wrong, you know?"