Emma nods, shifting her body to get comfortable for the drive. Her left elbow rests on the center console between us, a few inches away from me. I could lace her fingers with mine if I wanted to, and caress my thumb over each knuckle. Her petite hands are probably smooth and soft, delicate things I would treat with care and reverence.

Jesus Christ.

When did I start caring about hands?

“How far do your parents live?” she asks, buckling her seatbelt.

“About an hour north of the city, depending on traffic.”

“You spent two hours a day getting to and from school?”

“Yeah. They wanted me to be successful, and I’m thankful for the education I received. It’d be naive of me to not acknowledge how their advocacy impacted my future.”

My parents thought the high school in the city had a better reputation than even the private schools up the road from our house. They fought tooth and nail for me, and other students, to be allowed to attend the school despite living outside the boundary for admittance. I love my parents immensely, and watching them fight for equal education everywhere, no matter one’s tax bracket or socioeconomic status, reaffirmed how much respect I have for them not only as guardians, but humans, too.

“Did your brother and sister go to BPHS? Elizabeth and Andrew, right? I don’t remember ever bumping into them.”

“Hey, nice job with their names. Drew did. Who’s older?”

“Give me a minute.” Emma bites her lip, deep in thought, pensive and studious. I adore the expression of hers, when she’s thinking hard about something that’s just out of reach but still in her well of knowledge. “Your sister is four years older than you, and she has two kids. Your brother is the youngest, and he got married a few months ago.”

“You deserve a gold star. I’m impressed.”

“I do my research.”

“So, what’s our backstory? How did we meet? We probably should have talked about this beforehand.”

“We can say we met at work. It’s the least complicated answer. Why add another lie?”

“True. How about we worked on a case together, got to know each other as friends, one thing led to another and… here we are. Introducing you to my family.”

“Have you ever been friends with a woman?”

I snort, merging onto the highway. “Unless you count the girlfriends of my friends? No. I’ve never had a platonic relationship with a woman before.”

“Do your parents know about your aversion to finding a partner?”

“My mother knows I’ve never dated anyone, so prepare to be pestered. I apologize in advance for whatever gets said or insinuated.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle it. I’ll charm the pants off them so hard, they’ll wonder why you didn’t scoop me up sooner.”

Why didn’t I scoop her up sooner?

Good question, Dawson.