《What happens in Vegas》31| Kids
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I ran my fingers through my hair ruffling out the waves that I worked very hard on with a straightener. I thought curling your hair with a flat iron is supposed to be easier than using a curling iron but it's really not. I looked down at my red dress and sprayed perfume on myself.
I was sitting and tying the laces to my shoes, yes, I'm wearing shoes with a sundress. While I was pulling my socks on, my bedroom door opened. "Hi," I grinned, looking at him.
"Hi," he smiled, walking over to me. "How are you?" he asked, sitting beside me.
"Good, you?" I laughed.
"Good, thank you," he nodded, staring at me.
"What?" I giggled, throwing my hair over my shoulder.
"You look fucking beautiful," he chuckled, giving me a small shrug.
"I am really scared to meet your parents, you should know that. If you kiss me, I'll forget all the points I've built in my head to impress them," I said while pulling my shoes on.
He grabbed my legs and turned me to face him, pulling my legs in his lap and tying my laces for me. "I thought I told you not to try impressing them, you'll do it anyway," he said, looking at me rather than the laces.
"You didn't have to impress my dad, you already did that way before, right? But remember how you bought flowers for my mom and even baked with us? Yeah, that's called impressing someone," I said sarcastically.
"Your mouth is running," he chuckled, "Why are you so nervous? You'll be fine, Bella. You'll be great. My parents aren't as liberal or carefree or laid back as yours, but they're not that bad. You'll get along with them just fine," he explained.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"Because you get along with me. It's harder to get along with me than it is with them. If you can be with me, you can survive the night," he shrugged, setting my feet back on the floor.
"What if they hate me?" I whined, lying back.
"They will not," he huffed, "Bella Miller, believe me when I tell you, no one can hate you," he said, lying down beside me, tucking my hair behind my ear.
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"I thought you did for the longest time but all right," I mumbled.
"Sorry to disappoint, I've never hated you," he shrugged, "Just your school."
"Don't you worry, I hated it too," I scoffed. I turned to look at him and found him staring at me already. "We should head out," I said, sitting up slowly.
"I could lay here with you forever," he said while sitting up.
"Forever can start after this dinner," I chuckled, standing up. He stared at me and sighed before pulling himself up.
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The door opened and revealed who I'm assuming is his mom. She wore a welcoming smile as she stepped aside and let us in. "You must be Bella," she smiled, pulling me into a hug. "It's lovely to finally meet you, awe, she's beautiful, Noah," she gushed.
"Thank you," I chuckled, probably blushing.
"Come on in, come on in, I've got dinner all set up for us," she said, sounding very excited while leading us inside.
"She's been dying to meet you, if you couldn't tell," Noah said, bumping his shoulder with mine as we walked.
"I already love her, if you couldn't tell," I retorted, smiling at the way his mom adorably bounced around the kitchen, setting up the plates.
"She already loves you, if you couldn't tell," he smirked, "Where's dad?" he asked his mom while taking over and starting to help in the kitchen. I smiled, watching in awe.
"He just got a call from someone from work, god knows what's going in, he should be back any minute," she said, waving her hand dismissively. As she said that, Mr. Hudson showed up from a room that if I'm thinking right is quite possibly his study.
"Hello, Bella, correct?" he asked, holding a hand out for me to shake.
I smiled, nodding, "That's me." I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you," he said while taking a seat on the dining table. I don't want to say he's rude, he wasn't rude at all but Mrs. Hudson was definitely... nicer.
"Can I help?" I asked, walking over to Noah.
"Oh, my dear, no," Mrs. Hudson laughed, "You're our guest, please, have a seat," she grinned.
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"It's not a big deal, really," I shrugged.
"Don't be silly, take a seat. And anyway, if I let you help, what good is Noah for?" she joked.
"Theresa," Mr. Hudson spoke up, "We're waiting for dinner here." Noah's eyes met mine and they seemed apologetic for his father's behavior. I sense a little tension there.
"I'm sorry, honey," his mom smiled.
"I apologize, that was rude. I'm just hungry," he sighed.
"And tired," she nodded knowingly. Maybe it was just a tough day at work or something.
Once we were all seated for dinner, Noah and I sitting on one side, his parents on the other, his mom spoke up. She was eyeing us for a while until she decided to make her comments. "You two should have kids," she said bluntly. Noah choked on his food beside me and I started smiling, looking down at my plate, trying my best to hide it. "I'm not kidding," she shrugged.
"Most certainly, not now. Maybe in the future," his dad pitched in. "So, Bella. What are your plans for college?" he asked.
"Way to ease her into the conversation, thanks dad," Noah said sarcastically.
"When we know what we want to ask her, why wait?" he shrugged.
"Um- I uh-"
"She's not too sure yet, but she got into Berkeley," Noah said, grabbing my hand under the table that was resting on my leg.
"Berkely is great, Noah got in as well," he nodded, "When do you leave for it?" he questioned.
"I'm not sure," I answered hesitantly, "We haven't really discussed all that yet, me and my parents," I shrugged.
"Isn't it high time?" he asked.
"Dad," Noah huffed, looking up at his father, sinking in his seat, resisting an eye roll.
"I'm just trying to get to know my son's girlfriend," he said, putting his hands up in surrender.
"Then ask her about something other than college," Noah said, sitting up straight, putting his arms out on the table. Wow, there is a lot of dominance in this room.
Noah is a lot like his dad. Blunt, nonchalant, dominant, demanding, intimidating. It's like throwing two tanks of testosterone in one room and sealing it shut. It'll be overwhelming.
Explains why Mrs. Hudson is so... humble. She's cheery and enjoys whatever the hell she wants to, not giving a shit about her egoistic son and husband. Even though she's in love with her husband. It's evident. The love is there, always has been.
"Dial it down for god's sake," Mrs. Hudson groaned, "So, Bella, what do you like to do?" she smiled.
"I hop around between a lot of things," I chuckled, "I read, I like baking occasionally, my mom is really into it," I shrugged.
"And who is the better baker?" she questioned.
"Bella," Noah nodded.
"Yeah, he made the mistake of saying that in front of my mom," I laughed, looking at him.
"We should bake some time," she nodded at me.
"I would love to," I grinned.
"So, what are you planning to study?" his dad asked.
"Oh, my god," Noah mumbled, leaning back in his seat.
I bit my tongue, holding Noah's hand under the table. "I'm interested in business, it's more than likely what I would study," I answered with a tight lipped smile.
"You'll be a businesswoman then," he nodded.
Mm, I'd prefer being a housewife.
Nobody gets it when I explain this to them so I don't tell people anyway. I would love to be a housewife. I want to work before and maybe early on in my marriage and then that's it. I want to settle down, have a kid or two, enjoy being a married woman and a mother and call that life.
I just want to be happy. It's cliche but that's my answer. If somebody asked me what I want to be, that's what I'd say.
"So, what do you want to be?" Mr. Hudson asked.
That's not what I meant.
"Happy," I shrugged, "Ultimately, I'd just prefer to be happy with myself, my family, that's all that really matters," I answered.
"Please have his kids," Mrs. Hudson said, nodding at Noah.
I laughed and glanced at Noah who blushed at his mother's suggestions. "Maybe someday," I said jokingly but I meant it. I squeezed his hand when I said it and only realized that after I'd done it.
He squeezed my hand back. I turned to him and saw that he was already staring. I raised my eyebrows at him and he shook his head lightly, all of us resuming conversation.
Over the course of dinner, his dad got better. He's not a bad man, I'm sure it was just a tough day at work.
I mean, it better be because...
Mr. Hudson, I'm going to marry your son.
.
.
.
.
.
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