Chapter 133
Colby, he thought, had said family. About her. When Howard Kent had barely spent a minute with her since arriving.
He said, “Just tell me where and when you want me. I’ll be there.”
His mother poured champagne, golden and sparkling; she held it out to Tinsley, who took it, surprised but not unwilling.
“So,” Jason said, arm around Colby, “how embarrassed am I going to be by whichever childhood story Dad’s going to tell everyone, when it’s his turn?”The Sweetness of Sugar: An Evan and James Story
James Parr, clutching six bottles of wine, stared at the door. He hadn’t knocked or rung the bell yet, partly because of the armful of wine and partly because he was busy telling himself to remember to breathe.
The door gazed back, pale blue and noncommittal. Maybe it didn’t approve of his choice of shirt, or his hair, or his sudden all-encompassing panic. What if Colby Kent’s door didn’t approve of him?