I could tell Cayden was stressed—really stressed. We got comfortable in bed and after a while, Cayden's deep, even breathing told me that she'd fallen asleep. I wasn't so lucky. Instead, I was stuck, completely awake, staring at the ceiling.

I wasn't even sure what it was that I was most worried about because there were so many things that were on my mind. I wanted Cayden's parents to like me for obvious reasons, but I was worried I'd already fucked that up just on first impression. It didn't seem like Cayden's mom—Carmela—liked me very much, if at all. And considering Cayden's dad was the one I'd been warned about, I had a feeling things weren't going to get much better.

Beyond that, I was still worried about what I was even going to do now that I was in Miami. What if Cayden's family truly didn't like me? I felt like I didn't make a great first impression. And if they didn't like me, what then? Where would I go? What would I do?

I grabbed my phone and looked at the calendar app. Only another week until I'd be back in New York and almost done with my senior year.

Not like going back to New York seemed that much better. All I had there were ex-friends and ex-boyfriends out for blood. But on the other hand, I couldn't wait to see Griffin and tell him all about this over my usual herbal tea at Yolei's. At least I hadn't ruined our friendship... as far as I knew. I don't know. I'm incredibly paranoid after everything that happened with J&J. How did I know If my friends truly were my friends, and on top of that, if they wanted to even be there in the first place? I find myself overanalyzing everything now and even questioning if I'm a good enough friend. Or a good enough person.

I was getting myself worked up. No good ever came from feeling that way, so I knew I needed to go to sleep.

But even as I closed my eyes, my head kept spinning with thoughts and feelings.

Maybe Florida was a mistake.

-

I woke up in Cayden's arms, unsure of if I had crawled into them myself in my sleep, or if she had reached out for me first. It was nice—I felt warm and comfortable. For a second, I forgot everything that was going on around me. I just enjoyed being there with Cayden, her touch familiar and comforting.

Maybe Florida wasn't so bad if we got to do this all the time. The thought of sleeping next to Cayden every night made my heart sing. I was excited about it—more excited than I'd ever been with anyone.

Another worry flashed through my mind—what if we got sick of each other? But I forced it out, deciding we would cross that bridge if we ever got to it. We were still so early into this. I didn't want to cloud the fun and excitement of it all with excessive doubts.

Cayden shifted, groaning slightly, and then leaned down to kiss my forehead. I burrowed further into her, wishing we could just stay here. No friends, no parents, no ex-friends and no ex-boyfriends. When it was just me and Cayden, it felt so easy. It was once we were with other people that it got much harder.

I sat up slightly and looked at Cayden, studying every inch of her face. She was so beautiful. I loved looking at her. It was just an added bonus that I thought she was so undeniably sexy.

Cayden's eyes fluttered open and she looked at me. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," I greeted her, smiling a little bit. I kissed her. All of my worries from the night before disappeared completely as I melted into her. I definitely wanted to have sex—I was still turned on from the club—but I also didn't want to initiate anything. I wanted Cayden to make the decision about what was okay because we were in her house.

She kissed me back, her hand in my hair to keep me close.

"Ready to face my parents?" she asked.

I cautiously nodded. I didn't want her to know that I was hesitant or that I wasn't having a good time—I didn't want her to have to worry about me.

"Sure," I said and we both got up to get changed. I tried to find something modest and cute, something that didn't feel like I was trying to show off to her parents and something that suggested innocence. The last thing I wanted to do was give off the impression that I was a sexual being even the tiniest bit interested in sleeping with their daughter.

I knew that us sleeping in the same room, in the same bed, would probably give off that impression. But everything I could do to avoid putting that thought into their mind, I would do.

I brushed my hair and my teeth and then turned to Cayden. I had known that by coming to Florida with her, I would inevitably meet her parents. It was part of the conditions of the trip—we were going back to her family home that her parents owned.

But I had half expected that us meeting would be a little more...formal. I'd expected to be greeted at the door, or taken to dinner. I'd been counting on the emotional preparation time, the knowledge of a structured get-together.

This was still nice—especially since they were letting me stay at their house completely free of charge—but it was...different. It was so much more casual. And infinitely harder to know what to expect.

With dinner, there was a clear structure. But with going downstairs to...make breakfast? To hang out? Were they going to be excited to see me? Were they going to grill me?

Cayden kissed my temple. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said and took a deep breath before heading downstairs with her.

Cayden's parents were in the kitchen—her mom on her phone with her reading glasses on, and her dad with a newspaper in front of him.

"There they are. Good morning," Cayden's dad said, his voice booming. He was tall and muscular, which made sense considering he'd most likely played football. I didn't know much about his background other than him being a coach.

"Hi, Dad," Cayden greeted him. I looked between them, trying to get a sense of their relationship.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked, looking between us. He stood up and walked over to me, holding out his hand. "Robert."

"Hi—Vina." I greeted him, feeling very small and somehow underdressed due to his presence. I could see where Cayden got her height from—he was probably 6'4". And he was classically handsome in a way that made me think a lot of people would do double-takes when they saw him.

"My wife mentioned that," he said. "Nice to have you staying with us. This seemed to be the only way to get our daughter to come down to see us."

"That's not true," Cayden said.

"I think if you were staying in New York, she probably would've stayed there. Always leaving her parents behind," Robert joked. His tone was light and easy, but I could feel Cayden tense up next to me with every passing second.

"Thank you for letting me stay. It was really kind of you."

"Of course. We have plenty of space," Robert said. "I'm assuming you both need breakfast?"

"Yes, thank you," Cayden responded.

We settled around the kitchen island as Robert dug through the fridge, finding various things for us to eat.

"Where's Miriam?" Cayden asked.

"She's on vacation," Robert explained. "We timed it with when we would be out of town, but she'll be gone for a few more days. It'll just be me and your mom left on our own to cook in the kitchen."

"More like ordering out every night," Carmela said, the first thing she'd said all morning. She didn't look up from her phone. "I don't trust you in the kitchen any more than I trust myself."

Were they talking about a...private chef? Did Cayden's family have a cook?

It made sense maybe—Robert worked a lot and also probably made a lot of money. But how much money exactly? Just being able to afford this house alone really said something.

Robert smiled a little bit, turning to me. "Yeah, we're not exactly the best in the kitchen around here."

Even though I trusted Cayden's word on being hesitant around her father, I was definitely getting lulled into trusting him. He seemed really nice—charismatic and probably really scary when he was mad, but he didn't seem horrible. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"What are you guys in the mood for?" Robert asked.

"We can cook," Cayden said. "It's alright."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes, for sure." Cayden turned to me. "The only upside to having parents who don't like to cook is that you eventually learn how to cook for yourself pretty well."

"You are a great cook," I said, which felt like a neutral enough statement.

"How about dinner? All of us. Tonight. Our treat," Robert said.

"Oh I don't—"

"I'll make reservations. Do you like seafood, Vina?"

"Dad—"

"Sure," I said, feeling like speaking was a little bit of a betrayal to Cayden but also not speaking seemed rude.

"Great," Robert said. He stepped away from the fridge. "I'll let you two get cooking."

"I'm going to read by the pool," Carmela said and disappeared, leaving me and Cayden alone in the kitchen.

And for the first time since we left Cayden's room, I felt like I could breathe.