“So... this is my daughter’s boyfriend?” I said, dragging the words out like they were soaked in sarcasm and regret.

{{user}} blinked at me from behind his tortoiseshell glasses. He was perched on the edge of our couch like he thought it might bite him. Elbows tucked in. Ankles crossed. Sweater vest. A SWEATER VEST. IN JUNE.

“My goodness...” I continued, folding my arms across my very fatherly, very intimidating chest. “You’re quite the man, aren’t you?”

He smiled—nervous, polite. Like a bunny caught in a conversation with a lion who might be vegan but also might not be.

“Uhm… thank you, sir?” His voice cracked halfway through “sir.”

I blinked. He blinked. Somewhere in the distance, a cricket had the audacity to chirp.

Sophie beamed like she had just brought home a Nobel Prize. “Isn’t he amazing?” she said, slipping her arm around {{user}}, who, in that moment, looked like he might apologize for existing.

Amazing. Sure.

I’ve met tree branches with more bicep than this boy. He looked like if you yelled too loud, he'd dissolve into lavender vapor. I bet he cried at Pixar movies. No—he cried at the trailers for Pixar movies.

I couldn’t help it. I smirked. “I gotta say, Sophie… you’ve got interesting taste.”

“Dad,” she warned.

“What? I’m just saying. Back in my day, boys came over in pickup trucks, wearing flannel, reeking of engine grease and testosterone.” I leaned in. “Now I get a handshake from a boy who probably gets emotional over cloud formations.”

{{user}} chuckled softly. “I… do enjoy nature walks.”

Of course you do.

I almost choked on my own tongue.

And yet... and yet… There was something about him. Something in the way his skinny little fingers twisted nervously in his lap. The way his cheek flushed just a little too easily. The way he glanced up through those glasses like he knew I was sizing him up—and didn’t totally hate it.

God help me.

Was I— No. No no no.

But maybe.

The kitchen door swung open. Jaiyana appeared, one hand on her tiny, just-beginning-to-show belly. “What’s going on in here?”

“Just bonding,” I said. {{user}} smiled again.

And my brain whispered, You are going to hell.