Page 15 of The Nicest Thing

"You're dead."

I scoffed, but Parker Graves gave a somber nod. We were in one of Southern U's many exercise rooms. The baseball team used this space often for weight training because it was closest to the field. Graves, Reyes, and Wasserman were all giving me concerned looks.

"I mean it, O'Brien. You go meet her family now, and they'll eat you alive."

"Why?" I asked.

He counted off on his fingers. "Because you've been her 'friend' for years, and you never came around before."

My lips curved down. "First off, we are friends. I don’t know why you said it like that." The guys exchanged looks like I was missing something, but I ignored it. "And I told you already. Rose kept me away, thinking they'd scare me off."

"Well, that right there should tell you something."

It did.

It told me Rose underestimated my resolve to be in her orbit. To stick, to stay by her side no matter what. But I was determined to prove her wrong.

Hence why I'd called the guys here to get their opinions on family dinner. A decision I was currently regretting. Still, I gestured for Graves to continue.

"Come on, man," he said. "How can you not see it? In their eyes, you're trying to corrupt their precious little girl—"

I rolled my eyes. "Rose is older than me."

"—Like that matters. She’s innocent, and you're the big bad wolf coming in there to take her away."

"But—"

Reyes jumped in and said, "He's right. You said she has cousins?"

I jerked a nod. "Yeah, so what?"

"Male?"

Another more hesitant nod.

"Are they close?"

"From what Rose told me, they're tight. More like siblings."

He whistled then placed a hand on my shoulder. "Graves is right. They hate you already. Don't do it."

"But I have to," I said, feeling my shoulders go tight. "I already agreed to dinner."

"Call in sick."

"It's not work, Reyes. I can't do that—and you know what? I don't want to."

Wyatt Wasserman shook his head.

"What?" I said.

"Nothing," he replied.

But I knew there was something.

The look he gave me was one of pity, and honestly, it was starting to get on my nerves.

"Just say what you have to say, Wasserman."

"Fine," he said. "I think you should go and just be yourself."

The other guys stared.

So did I.

Wasserman was known for his blistering fastball, his good looks, his bluntness that bordered on rudeness, his ability to attract women with nothing but a look. One thing he wasn't good at? Being tactful.

After a second, I said, "Okay…what's the catch?"

"There isn't one." Wasserman shrugged. "You're soft, O'Brien. Your best bet is to play that up. Show the bro-cousins and parental units they've got nothing to worry about with you. Chances are Rose will dump you anyway and end up with someone way worse."

"Seriously," Reyes said, shaking his head.

"Dude," Graves said.

"What?" Realizing he'd put his foot in it, Wyatt turned to me and quickly added, "No offense, man."

"Oh, there is," I grumbled. "I take offense to everything you just said."

"I just meant you're non-threatening. A real girl's guy. You know, a gentleman."

Wyatt frowned.

"It's a good thing, right?"

"I guess," I said.

A grunt sounded from the far corner, and I turned to see Arnold sitting on a weight bench. As usual, his nose was buried in a book.

"You have something to add?" I asked.

Arnold glanced up. "You want my honest opinion?"

Holding out my hands to the room, I gave a nod. "Why not? I got everyone else's."

Closing the book, holding his place with a finger, my roommate said, "It doesn't matter what you do. It doesn't even matter what her family thinks of you."

He paused.

"You should go in there with no expectations. Wasserman cocked it up, but he's right. Be you. Show them how much you care for Rose. That's what will win them over—or not. You've got to roll with whatever comes."

Slowly, I nodded, taking in his words. "Got it. Thanks, Arnold."

The guy just shrugged like he hadn't put into words something that kept me up for three sleepless nights, leading me to call this pseudo-meeting, hoping to get some nuggets from guys who I knew had far more experience on the dating scene.

Well, except for Arnold. I had no idea what he'd been like before college, but unlike the other three, he'd been single for as long as I'd known him.

Ironic how he was the one who made the most sense.

"You’re smart," Graves observed.

Arnold gave a short nod of acknowledgment.

"I'm coming to you for relationship advice from now on."

"Me too," Wasserman said.

Reyes just shook his head. "I don't know. I still say fake sick. At least until you're ready."

I nodded at that.

Because I was ready.

I'd been ready and waiting for Rose for years. The idea of meeting her family was semi-terrifying. I could admit that. But it was also a privilege. One I didn't take lightly.

"Thanks for the advice," I said to the guys and meant it.

With my brothers scattered across the country, each of them in a different state playing pro ball, and with Emmy being…

well, Emmy, and one of Rose's closest friends, I hadn't known where to turn.

I really was grateful. Even if some of the suggestions weren't exactly productive, they got me to the right headspace.

As I walked out of the room, my thoughts went straight to Rose.

Usually if I needed to talk, I went to her. She came to me too.

But she was out for obvious reasons.

Was she still stressed about me meeting her family?

I didn't want that.

I'll just have to make them like me.

"Make who like you?"

Startled, I looked up to find my mom, standing outside her office, staring at me expectantly. The glass on the door said Head Coach Daisy O'Brien.

"Hey, Mom," I said.

"Hey," she said then repeated, "who were you talking about?"

I scratched the back of my neck, smiling a little in embarrassment. "Rose's family. I'm supposed to have dinner with them tonight."

"Ah," was all she said.

"I, uh, didn't know I said that out loud."

I also hadn't known I reached her office, too lost in my thoughts to notice.

"Brought you the latest data analysis," I said, holding up the papers. "I should have everything uploaded tonight, but I know you like to get the hard copy. The Wolves are looking good, stats improved over last practice."

"Good to hear." With a nod, she gestured me inside, and I followed. My mom took a seat behind her desk and waited for me to sit in one of the visitors' chairs. The way she steepled her fingers and studied me put me on edge. So, to even things out, I mirrored her pose and lifted a brow.

After a moment, she laughed. "Is that really what I look like?"

"Yeah," I said, "but your stare is more intimidating than mine."

"You should give yourself more credit, Finn."

Mom eased back into her chair, and when I did the same, she chuckled again.

"All moms have that hundred-yard, take-no-prisoners, confess-all-your-secrets look down," I said with a shrug. "Though my mom's is the most powerful. Not sure I'll ever measure up."

"That's not what I meant," she said back.

I tilted my head.

"If Rose's family has any sense, they'll love you on sight."

"Thanks, Mom," I said.

"I'm serious." She hit me with that all-knowing stare now. "Why are you worried? What could they possibly find wrong with my son?"

I rolled my eyes. "Lots of things."

She narrowed her gaze. "Like what? Everyone loves you—Rose included."

My chest warmed.

Did she love me?

Would it ever be how I love her?

As if my mother had a direct line to my brain, she nodded with a sigh. "I see."

"See what?" I asked.

"You still haven’t told her?"

I tried not to show any outward signs of panic.

Wasn’t sure I succeeded.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Not sure what you mean."

"Oh, Finn."

Two words.

But they conveyed so much.

Daisy O'Brien was a lot of things, a Southern U sports legend, one of the winningest coaches, female or male, in collegiate history with a ton of both softball and baseball victories to her name, the best mother to her six kids, a loving wife who missed her husband and celebrated his life that was cut short too soon by living her own life to the fullest every day.

And if that wasn't enough, she was apparently now psychic.

I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand.

"Before you say anything, I didn't read your mind," she said.

"Are you sure?" I replied.

"Didn't have to. Every time you mention her name your voice changes."

I scoffed.

"It's true, Finn."

"Her name," I said flatly. "That's how you knew? Just by the way I say Rose?"

She nodded.

"How do I say it?"

"With reverence and awe, like it's your favorite name in the whole world. It's the same way your father used to say mine."

I didn't admit it, but that hit me right in the chest.

God, if I could have a love like my parents had, that was my life's goal. I wasn't sure I'd ever get it. Theirs was one for the record books. And I knew it would never be possible without Rose. But I could hope.

Instead of fessing up, I sent Mom a grin. "I do love flower names."

She tsked, but I could tell she wanted to laugh.

"But I'm still not buying that that's how you knew or why you chose to bring it up now. Come on, Mom. Out with it."

Mom maintained her flinty stare for about three more seconds before she cracked.

"Someone may have let me know about a kiss," she said finally.

"Which one?" I countered.

Her eyes brightened. "At the little league game. I already knew about the one from Christmas, of course."

"Of course," I echoed then shook my head. "I love her, but Emmy has a big mouth. She needs to stop meddling."

"Don't talk about your sister like that."

"I said I love her."

"Then you added a 'but' and said she has a big mouth."

"Well…"

Mom threw me a glare, but there was no heat behind it.

"Anyway, Emmy wasn't even the first person to tell me."

I sent her a questioning look.