Nineteen

We strode through the wrought-iron gates of the restaurant; my eyes hovered over the woman in a formal waitress attire, greeted us, and headed us into an attractive formal room; I noticed the family size table having ten chairs for people. My gaze landed on Zech, who stood up from sitting beside his father between the other man at his other side. A broad smile curved his mouth as he approached us, giving me a smacking kiss on my lips and his mom in the cheeks.

My heart palpitated; I hope I won't mess things up or, at worst, embarrass myself in front of his relatives. I erase the image of myself being tripped because of my clumsiness or choked of eating or splashed someone accidentally because shit can happen, right? What if—

Zech held his arm in my waist as he whispered, feeling the warmth of his breath in my ear, "Don't be nervous, they won't bite you, relax." And he grinned and lightly squeezed his hand on my midsection. He was trying to make me feel better.

I swallowed, staring at