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Chapter five

(Chemical) reaction optimisation: a process of altering the parameters of a chemical reaction to improve cost, product yield, and/or purity.

L uke calls me a few minutes later, and I duck into my old room upstairs to take the call.

I’ve moved most of my stuff out over the years, but Mum’s kept a few old school trophies and posters on the wall, and always makes sure the bed is made so that I can stay over whenever I might want, so it still fundamentally feels like my own space.

“I’m at the shop,” he says quickly, and he seems a bit out of breath. “I wanted to bring something over, but then I realised I have no idea what your mother would like. Do you think she’d appreciate flowers? Chocolate? Wine? A cake?”

I realise with a flash of warmth that he’s nervous. That’s a promising sign, right? “She’d say you shouldn’t, but if you do want to bring something, she does love practically all forms of chocolate. A selection box or something will put you in her good books.”

“Grand. Good. Right. And her partner?” I’d mentioned Sue to him a few days ago.

“She'll also love the chocolate. Seriously, don’t worry about it too much. They’re not fussy. And you’re coming to help out, so they’re pretty much guaranteed to like you.”

“Okay. That’s good.” He still doesn’t sound convinced, bless him. “Anything else?”

“I’d dress down. We’re all pretty informally dressed today.

” I send him a quick selfie of my T-shirt and joggers combo, just for reference.

“Besides if you come in wearing a suit, I think you might melt after twenty minutes in their living room. You’d be really impressed at the thermal efficiency,” I add, just to see if the small joke helps him relax.

It works; he chuckles. “Fair enough. I’ll see you soon then.”

It’s just under an hour, and we’re about seventy favour boxes in before he knocks on the front door. “I’ll get it!” I say quickly, nearly tripping and ending face-first on the carpet in my haste. I get to the door in one piece, and fling it open, grinning at the sight of him. “Hey.”

Luke looks stunning in the late August sunlight.

He’s wearing a thin, slate grey T-shirt which shows off his broad chest and wide shoulders.

There’s a healthy dusting of dark blond hair along his forearms. His light blue jeans cling to his thighs and shins in very flattering ways.

He’s holding… “Luke, that’s probably a few too many chocolates,” I tell him, trying not to laugh.

He glances at the pile of selection boxes in his hands, the tip of his nose turning a little pink. “I might have panic-bought one of every kind I could find,” he confesses.

Impulsively, I rise onto my tiptoes to press a kiss onto his surprised mouth.

“It’s sweet,” I tell him. I call into the next room.

“Mum, we’ll just be two seconds.” I lead him to my car, and we deposit about half of the chocolates there before heading back in.

“There. That’s… well, it’s still a lot, but they’ll fit in the house now. ”

Luke huffs a soft laugh. “Don’t think I’m fooled; you’ve just moved all those chocolates to your car so that you can have them to yourself later on.”

I nudge him with my elbow, but I’m secretly glad he’s making jokes; hopefully he’s not feeling too nervous then. “Well, it’s all very right and proper. We are dating; chocolates are a very acceptable gift.”

“What an excellent suitor I am,” he deadpans, and I snicker.

"Come on then, excellent suitor."

I show him in, and we all get through a quick round of introductions with minimal awkwardness. Mum and Sue are predictably delighted with the chocolates, and I'm instructed to go put the kettle on, because a fresh brew is deemed to be vital.

I'm ambivalent about leaving Luke in there with Mum; part of me is suddenly convinced that this is a bad idea, and that everyone will end up not getting along and it'll all end in tears.

Who in their right minds drops a surprise parent visit on someone on their third date?

But I can't keep nipping back in without coming across completely unhinged, so I stew through the kettle boiling and the tea steeping before hurrying back into the living room.

Oh. And they're just chatting normally. So I've just been projecting my neuroses on them. Luke's telling Mum about his sister Vic, who is an actuary working in Birmingham. He seems at ease, and as nearly as I can tell, Mum seems to be too.

"Ta love," Mum says as I set her mug down on the windowsill, next to a small collection of crocheted animals. "Here, you sit down now."

Hm. The box containing small butterfly stickers has moved from the couch next to Luke, onto the one free stool that I was going to perch against. Mum's being very unsubtle about encouraging me to sit next to him.

There's not much space cleared on the couch, so we're pressed together from shoulder to elbow.

His forearm brushes against mine as he reaches for his mug.

Thank fuck for loose jogging bottoms. I don't want two of the three people in this room to ever see me with a full-fledged boner.

The third… he's very welcome to see it. Hopefully soon.

I get a grasp on the situation (not an euphemism for my cock) after a couple of minutes' silent concentration on Ellie’s bloody wedding arts and crafts nightmare. When I tune in to the conversation around me again, Mum’s explaining who Ellie is to Luke.

“...old Margie down the street, Ellie’s her granddaughter. She always used to stay over at Margie’s when her parents were at work, so she and our Charlie used to play with each other.”

“Ellie was always in charge of what we were playing,” I inform him. “Apparently being three months older meant that she was always the boss.”

Luke grins. “I can’t imagine that went down well with you.”

Mum rolls her eyes heavenward. “The racket the two of you used to make, when you argued. And you never learned to just let it be either; the times I’d come into the room and find her sitting on you.”

Luke looks highly entertained.

“She was always super sneaky,” I say defensively. “And freakishly strong.”

“She changed her tune though when these two got to Year Seven,” Mum tells Luke gleefully. “She started coming after him for a whole different reason.”

I shudder. “Don’t, you’re reminding me of a terrible time in my life,” I say, though it’s a little difficult to keep a straight face next to Luke’s growing smile.

“She decided that she wanted me to be her boyfriend,” I explain to Luke.

“Apparently, I was just cute enough to be worthy of dating her, but not so cute that she’d risk actually catching feelings for me and ruining her lifelong dream of marrying some guy from a boy band… Blue, I think?”

“Wow.” Luke’s green eyes sparkle. “I mean, how could you resist such a flattering offer?”

“I know.” I lean very slightly against his shoulder, enjoying the closeness. “It was so difficult not to fall to my knees in gratitude.”

Luke leans in to whisper something to me, and if I weren’t in my mum’s living room, I’d very likely fall to my knees for a different reason as his lips brush the sensitive curve of my ear.

“She’s wrong anyway; you’re way too cute, and I’d imagine anyone dating you would be at a very high risk of developing feelings for you. ”

“Uh,” I say stupidly. I’m pretty sure my face is on fire, but the lovely warm feeling that’s blossoming in my chest leaves no space for the usual self-doubt or worry to come through.

When I compose myself a little and look around the room, Mum’s still keeping her hands busy, but the smile she sends my way is all encouragement and shared joy.

“So. Yeah. Obviously she’s long since been done with that horrifying phase of her life.

I’ve not met this guy she’s marrying, but for his sake, I hope he’s a patient one. ”

“Oh, give over,” Mum says brightly. “She’s not so bad now.”

I wrinkle my nose. "Yeah. Which is why she's been so, so chilled about the wedding."

Mum and Sue laugh. "We've been getting weekly updates from Margie about Ellie's wedding drama for the past two years," Sue explains to Luke. "There's been a meltdown at least twice a month about something or other."

"She's a good girl really," Mum says staunchly. "But I'm sure Margie will be right glad when it's over."

"She’ll have a few weeks’ peace at least while Ellie’s on honeymoon,” I say glibly, reaching over Luke to hand a few more boxes to Sue for her epic ribbon-tying skills.

I come very close to tripping over his ankle and landing over his lap, and he steadies me at the last minute with a quick hand over my hipbone.

I’m pretty sure my face can be used as a direct heat source as I sit back down, and it’s even harder to concentrate on Ellie’s bloody boxes afterwards.

When Luke excuses himself to use the washroom upstairs, Mum gives me another knowing smile. “Well, love,” she says slowly. “What do you think?”

“What are you talking about,” I demand in a low whisper. “The whole point of me bringing him here was so that you could see what you thought of him!”

She shrugs, and that fucking irritating Mona Lisa smile stays put on her face. “It were, and I have. As much as I can in a few minutes, at least.”

“So why aren’t you telling me, you… you swamp witch?” I ignore the surprised titter of laughter from Sue across the room.