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Matt asked, his chest heaving.  “You’re so fucking hot.  Kiss me.”
    I leaned in and pressed my lips to his before quickly pulling away.  “Let me grab a washcloth.”
    “Stay.”
    I shuffled out of bed and into the connecting bath.  “One second.”  I studied myself in the mirror, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles at the sides of my eyes before soaking a washcloth with hot water.  I wrung it out, the stinging liquid nearly burning my skin.  “Shit,” I grumbled.
    Matt was lying with his hands behind his head, a wide grin stretched over his face.  His briefs were pulled back up, just inches below the sticky mess I’d left behind.  Climbing into bed, I carefully erased all evidence of my first hand job.
    “You’re good at that.”
    I jerked my hand in jest.  “Lots of practice… on myself, of course, but the logistics are the same.”
    He twirled a piece of my hair, staring at it as he pulled it from my scalp.  “Your hair is amazing.  Anyone ever tell you that?”
    “My mom,” I teased.  “Good thing she doesn’t count.”
    “So, about tomorrow.  Well, I guess it’s today now, right?  You want to do something?”
    “Actually, I told my mom I’d have breakfast with her.  That’s happening in—” I looked at my phone.  “Five hours.”
    “Breakfast with Mom.”  Matt nibbled my ear lightly as his arm wrapped around my back.  “Can I crash it?”
    A shot of panic raced up my spine.  “You want to meet my mom?”
    I could feel his head nod in the crook of my neck.  “I do.  Is that a big deal?  Come on, Fin.  I know you’re scared, but even if you don’t see us as dating, we’re still friends, right?  Friends meet the parents, don’t they?”  His lips gently suckled into the hollow of my throat.
    “Friends don’t typically kiss,” I muttered.
    “You want me to stop kissing you?”
    I rolled onto my back and pulled him up for a quick tongue lashing.  “No.  Don’t ever stop.”
     
    ♂♂
     
    After a long shower (together), Matt and I dressed and called the car to be brought around.
    “Valet service,” he said with a pause.  “Nice.”
    “It’s extra.”
    “I bet it is.  This place is insane, Fin.”  He looked around.  “A Starbucks?”
    I looked down at my well-worn boots.  It was embarrassing.  I’d done nothing to deserve what I had.  I just… did.  My father worked eighty-hour weeks so that I could have fucking groceries delivered if I didn’t feel like walking.
    “Yes,” I whispered.
    “Don’t be weird.  I just haven’t had a decent place in a while.  I live in a studio in the Gate District.”
    “Seriously?”
    “It’s what I can afford right now.”  He shrugged.  “Things will get better in a few years.”
    The car pulled in and I opened the door for Matt.  He leaned over and kissed me before climbing into the seat.  It was a small gesture, but I took my time walking around the car, desperate to shed the shit-eating grin plastered across my lips.
    He held my hand while I drove, lifting to kiss my knuckles before we pulled into a parking space.  The restaurant was one of my mother’s favorites; she loved the croque madame and no one made it like Scape, according to her.
    She was sitting, studying her lipstick in the tongs of a fork, when we arrived. 
    “Baby,” she bellowed, not looking up from her fork.  When she did, she corrected herself, “Or should I say babies plural?  Are you Matt?”
    “God, Mom,” I responded, my face flushing.  “What if it wasn’t him?”
    “Well, it is him, thank God.  Right?  I mean, it is him, isn’t it?”  She whispered the last sentence.
    I nodded.  “Yes, Mom, this is Matt.”
    “Hi,” he said, outstretching his hand.
    She batted it out of the way.  “We’re MacAuliffes.  In case you don’t know what that means, we’re huggers.  Come on, honey.  Bring it in.”
    Matt embraced her tightly, even giving her a sweet rub across her shoulders before letting