Hey, Darling.

I was paralyzed with fear. My fingers held a tight grip to the edge of the seat, and I was intently staring at the house in front of me, each look laboring my breath just a little bit more. I was faintly aware of the shaking sensation in my legs, and that nerves that crept up my back and made me shiver.

I was very, very scared.

“C’mon,” Kennedy said, motioning his head towards the house in front of us.

I shook my head, not willing my mouth to move. I was pretty sure anything that came out would just be stammers and fragments of jumbled sentences, anyway.

“Why not?” He demanded, rolling his eyes at my childish behavior.

Maybe it was because he had never met a parent before, or maybe his mother really was as harmless as he said; he still didn’t get it. I was scared shitless. In my head, there were about twenty-two different situations running through my mind. Twenty-two different ways that things could go disastrously, horribly wrong.

What if she hated me? What if she thought I was rude? What if she didn’t think I was good enough?

As each scenario crossed in front of my eyes, I started to get even more tense. I was almost ninety-nine percent sure that I was about to push myself into a panic attack.

“Molly Marie Epps,” he scolded. “you’re acting like a fucking two-year-old.”

I had the will to turn my head and glare at him. “Kennedy you’ve-not-told-me-your-middle-name Brock,” I imitated. “you’re acting too reasonable.”

He rolled his eyes once again. “She’s not going to bite you, I swear. She likes you already, trust me. I’ll hold your hand the entire time, and I won’t let go.”

I blinked at him, and my heart melted just a little bit at his comforting words. Just a little bit. Some of the tension eased in my back, and I no longer had a death-grip on the seat. “Do you promise?” I asked.

He nodded, and sent me a smile that made my heart flutter a little. “I promise.”

I sighed a little, and then I let the seat go completely and folded my hands in my lap. I let my back slouch, and then I nodded my head slowly.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But you better not let go unless you have to really piss or something.”

Kennedy laughed at my threat, but nodded regardless. “I promise. If I let go, you can kick my ass. Or refuse to kiss me for a week. Something really harsh like that.”

I couldn’t stop the small smile that graced my lips as I rolled my eyes playfully at him. “Whatever.”

Then I pushed the door open, and stepped out into the sweltering heat. It was one of those Arizona days that seemed just a little hotter than the others, the heat and humidity hitting you in waves the second you step out into the exposed sun. I was wearing my favorite high-waisted cotton dress and a simple pair of black flats. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail and kept my face bare of make-up, positive that it would just sweat off within the first few minutes exposed in the sun.

I was always wearing about two layers of SPF 85 sunscreen, because I was partial to sunburns.

I smoothed out my dress the second I stepped out of the car, and bent down to the side mirrors to make sure that my hair looked decent. At least, as decent as it could get in the heat.

“You look amazing,” Kennedy said, waving me off as he tugged on my hand. He was already walking towards the porch.

I felt the same set of nerves wash all over me again, but I tried to calm that down as much as possible.

I didn’t want to be shaking and breathing heavily when I met his mother. She’d probably think I was psychotic, refuse Kennedy from ever seeing me again, and send in a referral to my grandmother about how I needed to see a psychologist, ASAP.

Kennedy didn’t knock on the door (that would have been stupid, right?) but just walked in, me trailing behind him. I grabbed the knob gently as I stepped in the foyer, closing the door and locking all heat out. The inside of his house was cool, probably a good twenty or thirty degrees below outside. There was hardwood floor everywhere I looked, with tasteful prints hung in black frames decorating the walls. The walls were a light beige, and the hallway leaded into a bright kitchen.

“I’m home!” Kennedy called into the house, and his voice seemed to echo off of the walls. There was a staircase to our right, which I presumed leaded to bedrooms. To the left of us, there was a large living room, full of leather sofas (I cringed) and a large, plasma TV.

It looked like a pretty average place.

“I’m in the kitchen!” A voice called back to him. It was a high soprano voice, clear and full. It reminded me of the kind of voice that a grade school teacher would have, delicate at all times, even during scolding.

Kennedy looked over at me and flashed a smile. I attempted to smile back, but I think it resembled a grimace more than anything.

Kennedy’s smile fell when he saw my reaction, and instantly he was using his strength to pull me closer to him.

“Hey, now,” he said softly, pulling my face only centimeters away from his own. “Smile, gorgeous. It’ll be okay.”

I nodded as he spoke, but I didn’t really believe him. He used one of his hands to stroke my temple, peering into my eyes with a worried expression. I’m sure my face mirrored his.

“What are you so afraid of?” He asked gently, before placing a butterfly kiss on my temple, dragging his lips down to my cheek.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” I asked meekly, looking down at the floor rather than into his eyes.

His eyes were, if anything, my weakness. Besides his lips, of course, but that was an entirely different story.

“She’ll love you.” He promised confidently, whispering the words close to my ear. I felt his breath skim over my skin, and I refrained from shivering.

“But what if she doesn’t?” I doubted his words. How could he know exactly how she would react. He couldn’t.

He shrugged. “Then she’ll just have to suck it up, because if it’s up to me, you’re sticking around.”

I laughed quietly, and my mood shifted higher when I heard him speak. He seemed to really like me. Hearing him talk about me so much made me happy, made me feel really wanted.

I didn’t say anything, just looked up and stared at his eyes. I felt comforted and safe when I looked Kennedy in the eyes.

Slowly, I nodded. “Okay. Better now. Temper tantrum’s over,” I said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Kennedy’s face slowly broke out into a smile, and he kissed me on the lips quickly. Then, he started walking towards the kitchen.

His mother was standing next to the island, chopping up potatoes and setting them in the sink to be scrubbed. She was of middle height, perhaps a couple inches taller than me, and was thin. She had light brown hair and brown eyes. She looked concentrated as she cut the potatoes, staring at them with this certain gleam in her eye.

When she heard us come in, her head propped up immediately. She flashed a smile, showing her rows of straight, white teeth. When she smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes were apparent, but not in a bad way. They were laugh lines. They showed history.

“Hello,” she greeted us when we walked inside. Kennedy walked over to the island, resting one of his free hands on top of the marble. I stood slightly behind him, fumbling with my hands.

“Mom,” he said. “this is Molly, the girl I was talking about.”

His mother turned to smile at me, and I smiled back, even though in the back of my mind all I heard was ‘the girl I was talking about’ instead of ‘my girlfriend.’

At the moment, I pushed that to the back of my head and stretched my hand out to grasp hers in a handshake. She had a delicate hold on my hand, but she still shook it firmly.

She had this look in her eye that I had a hard time understanding. It didn’t necessarily say “it’s so nice to meet you” nor “get the hell away from my son.”

It was very disconcerting.

“How lovely to finally meet you,” she said, and I nodded.

“You too,” I squeaked out, and then retreated my hand when she let go. I still felt like I was shitting bricks.

“Kenny here has told me a lot about you,” she said. I just nodded.

“Only good things,” Kenny looked over at me and smiled. “I promise.”

The conversation was awkward. We exchanged pleasantries, and then I just stood there, shifting from one foot to the other silently. Kenny’s mother went back to chopping potatoes, and Kenny was just looking back and forth between us quickly. I didn’t really know what to expect.

Finally, he grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the hallway.

“Bye, mom,” he said as we started walking. “I’ll see you later.”

She looked up and nodded, smiling at him. I noted that the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but I let it go. It wasn’t my business to meddle.

“I want to show you my room,” Kennedy said once we were out of earshot. “Since we’re here and all.”

I just nodded, still feelings the nerves bundled in my stomach. I didn’t really think that his mom liked me, and I didn’t really know what to think about that.

We made our way up the stairs quietly. Kennedy’s room was the last door on the left. The door was slightly cracked open, and when he opened it, all I saw was navy blue and white. His floor was this shade of white - a clotted cream, I would say if we were being technical - and his walls were a deep navy. There was a desk shoved in one corner, with a desktop computer and CD cases scattered around. He had three guitars - an acoustic propped up against the wall, and two electric’s in their stands. It looked like a boy’s room.

“So this is it,” he said once we stepped inside, squeezing my hand as he walked over to the bed. He sat down, pulling me down with him. I think I was meant to sit in the spot next to him, but because of my unequal distribution of weight and the way he was pulling, I ended up halfway on his lap. I laughed, uncomfortable, and made my way to move off of him.

He wouldn’t let me. His arms snaked around my waist and he shifted me so I was sitting in the center of his lap. Sitting down, he was a couple inches taller than me. I had to turn my head and look up to see his eyes.

I blushed, embarrassed at sitting in his lap. The first thing that came into my mind was that I was probably crushing him.

“Let me go,” I protested, squirming in his arms. “I’m going to break you.”

I could practically hear Kennedy rolling his eyes. “No, you won’t. You weight like, nothing.”

Now it was my turn to use the eye roll. “Seriously,” I ignored him. “Lemme go.”

Though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel Kennedy shake his head. His face brushed against the back of my head. “Nope.”

“Kenny!” I whined, not amused with the way he was acting. I didn’t like sitting on his lap. It made me self conscious.

“Shush!” He scolded me. “Shut up with all this nonsense about how you’re fat and whatnot. You’re perfect, remember? And even if you were fat - which you’re not - I wouldn’t care, because I’m not superficial and I want you for just the way you are, with whatever body type that includes.”

I tried to stop the smile that was making it’s way across my lips, but I couldn’t. And when it started, it couldn’t stop.

He was so fucking cute. It was contagious.

I just nodded meekly, and relished in the feeling of him leaning down to press kisses on my neck. I squirmed in his lap, trying to get comfortable, and I heard him groan, before his lips attacked my neck more forcefully. He was sucking the delicate skin, using his tongue to stroke circles and various patterns. I stifled back the tiny moan that wanted to be let out, and just settled for a quick intake of breath and a whimper.

I was not used to this kind of physical contact, at all.

I subconsciously lent my head a little to the right, letting Kennedy have move access to the skin he seemed to enjoy dominating. My eyes fluttered closed in delight.

This was new and unexpected, but it felt really nice.

And while Kennedy seemed to enjoy leaving his mark (I was positive there was going to be a hickey the size of Alaska once he was done) I had time to reflect. I tried to shut up my brain. I tried to kick out all thoughts of insecurities and everything that was bugging me at that moment, but I didn’t do a really good job.

The whole time, there was only one sentence running through my mind:

One month and twenty-seven days.