I look at him, and of course he looks good, casual in a thin pullover and suede ankle boots. He just doesn’t understand how stressful this is for me. I was fine until this morning when he texted me before he boarded his flight. That’s when it set in. I agreed to let him introduce me to his impeccable mother and his superstar father. Me, a nobody from nowhere. They’re going to take one look at me and wonder where they went wrong with their only son, and then once I’m gone from their palatial Jersey home, they’re going to do everything they can to talk him out of getting any more serious with me.

I abandon my rack and toss on my robe as soon as I get into the bathroom. I move to the mirror but can’t even look at myself. I know who I am, but what if it’s not enough for his parents?

Nate knocks before pushing in, and I feel absolutely mortified when he sees my tears before I have a chance to brush them away. “Hey, hey. Look at me.”

I take a breath and open my eyes to see my makeup is streaked. He holds my gaze and asks so softly, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to go.”

I drop my eyes, unable to look at him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. We’ve already promised his parents we’d come over this weekend. I don’t want him to have to let them down, but I just can’t do this anymore.

He watches me for a moment. “You don’t want to go...or you scared?”

“What if they don’t like me?” I can barely make out my own words. “What if they don’t think I’m...”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” I say, exasperated, frustrated that he’s making me spell this out for him. “Good enough for you. I didn’t go to fancy prep school. My parents aren’t rich. They’re not even here. And I have a record.”

“They don’t care about shit like that.”

“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean they’re gonna feel the same.”

“Yo, my dad grew up in the streets. He was hustling before he was drafted.”

I inhale, make a graceless sound. “I know, but—”

“My mom was homeless when she was a kid. Her and her brothers shelter-hopped for almost a whole year. This is family,” he says, his arms tightening around me. “You don’t have to impress anybody. You just gotta be you.”

I lift my eyes to his again and there’s a smile in his eyes right before the edges of his lips curl.

I smile back and whisper, “Okay.”

“Yeah? You good?”

“Two minutes.” I twist around in his arms. “Let me just fix my mascara and I’ll throw something on.”