My Daughter's Boyfriend Read Online Free PDF Page A

approved of him, he and I would either go to the movies, Astro World, the malls, or swimming at the beaches of Galveston Island. That was several months ago and we’ve been love connecting ever since.
    Aaron returned to our booth bringing a sample of every type of pizza on the buffet, breadsticks, lasagna, and tossed salad.
    “Aaron, I can’t eat all this,” I laughed.
    “I know, Bunny. I just want it here for you in case you’re hungry.”
    “I’m not
that
hungry.”
    I gave him a flirty, sexy look, the one where my mouth is partially open and my chin is uplifted. He stopped what he was doing to zero in on my facial seduction dance, and I shook my head.
    “Uh-oh. Better stop this. We came here to eat, celebrate, and get away from the house.”
    “Hey, Lauren. Don’t think that
this
is the highlight to your birthday.”
    “You mean there’s more? What else you get me?”
    “As soon as we’re finished eating, you’ll find out what your gift is.”
    I shoved my plate to the side. “I’m done.”
    A half hour later we were headed toward Aaron’s apartment. Transportation was provided courtesy of his five-year-old black-and-gold Acura Legend, a decent-looking ride that his parents bought him when he graduated from high school.
    “Let’s go,” Aaron ordered after we pulled into his reserved covered parking space. Aaron’s home is in the Parkwood West Apartments, on the southwest side of town. For the past year and a half Aaron has lived there with his roommate, Brad McMillan, who’s originally from Detroit. Aaron, a native Houstonian who decided to remain in state to attend college, met Brad in a sociology class at the University of Houston.
    Aaron and Brad’s apartment was very different than most of the ones I’d been in. You walked in the door and located directly to the right was a hallway that had two bedrooms and a full bath. If you kept going straight you’d come to the dining room, the kitchen, and then the living room, which was in the back of the apartment. There was a nice-sized balcony, but it was full of junk: mountain bikes, snorkels, tennis rackets, and other sports equipment.
    After walking in Aaron’s home, I clutched my purse next to me and sat on the edge of the couch. On the other hand, Aaron had removed his coat, his suit jacket, and even his shoes. He went into his refrigerator and poured us sparkling white grape juice in champagne glasses. I smiled when he handed me a glass. I crossed my legs and reached to take a small sip. After one soothing taste I ended up guzzling a little bit more. Then I emptied the glass and placed it on a wooden coaster on Aaron’s cocktail table.
    Meanwhile, Aaron seemed to be in his own world, moving about the apartment, pulling out various CDs and placing them in the disc changer: Brian McKnight’s
Back at One,
Mariah Carey’s
Rainbow,
and Maxwell. I watched him standing by the speakers. His eyes were closed and he was swaying to Maxwell’s distinctive high vocals.
    A minute or so passed, but I refused to remove my coat.
    “Hey, Bunny, you all right? Why you still got your coat on? Is it too cold in here?”
    “Huh? Oh no. I’m okay.”
    “Sure? I can turn up the heat.”
    “Oh no. D-don’t do that, Aaron. I’ll take my coat off in a few.”
    I yawned hard enough to make him yawn too, and leaned my head against the big cushy pillows.
    “Is it okay if I take off my shoes?” I asked.
    “Nope, it’s not okay. I know your feet smell like hell.”
    “Well, if you already know that, then it shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, and slid my feet out of my slingbacks.
    “Fortunate” happened to be both Aaron’s and my favorite slow jam. When Maxwell’s screams filtered from the CD player, it was a matter of seconds before Aaron extended his hand and I stood up. Aaron slid my coat off my shoulders and dropped it to the floor, but I ducked down and placed the coat on the recliner. He smiled at me and held out his hand, and I put my hand in his