warning: sexual themes!

*

Rhysand shifts the gear stick to park and looks at Andy.

"Just be nice and be yourself," she says reassuringly, smiling widely.

"Pick one. I can't be both," Rhysand says.

"You're already both. And you're just facing my dad," Andy counters, laughing. "Baby, you're so nervous, oh my God."

"Jesus, I need a smoke." He shoves his hand inside his pocket for his pack.

Andy glares at him and snatches the pack before he can open it. "No smoking." She takes a lollipop from her bag and unwraps it. "This is your fourth lollipop, did you know that?"

Rhysand leans forward and opens his mouth, and Andy gently pushes the lollipop in between his lips. "I need them," he mutters.

Andy sighs and takes his hand. "Don't be nervous, Rhys. He's going to love you."

He shoots her a flat look.

"Okay, he's going to like you," Andy says, laughing. "And it's not like he's going to shoot you in the head. Just remember: don't tell him I sleep over. Don't tell him we've done...stuff. And don't ask about my mom."

Rhysand squeezes her hand. "Okay. I can do that."

"Oh, and you can't touch me around him."

Rhysand takes out the lollipop. "That's going to be a little hard."

Andy laughs. "You're so cute."

She waits for Rhysand to finish his lollipop before they go inside the house.

Trey Sanford, in his police uniform, is cooking when they enter the house, but he drops whatever's on his hands to catch his daughter running up to him. "Hi, kiddo."

"Dad, missed you," she says, hugging him around his neck. "And you just got off work again!"

He kisses her cheek and puts her down, then he keeps his arm around her shoulders to look at Rhysand. He drops the smile. "Reesand, is it?"

"Dad, it's Rhysand," Andy says, giggling, grabbing Rhysand's hand. "This is my boyfriend, Rhysand Harton. Rhys, this is my dad."

"Sir," Rhysand says.

A loud laugh escapes Andy's lips.

Her dad still looks terrifying, but his mouth twitches. "It's Trey." He extends his hand out. "Andy tells me you're a music producer?"

Rhysand shakes his hand, face stoic and posture stiff. Andy squeezes his bicep. "Yes, sir—Trey. Uh, thank you for having me."

Her dad nods once. "You can bring your bags up to Andy's room and come help me in the kitchen. I set up a mattress on the floor."

Andy flushes. "Dad, you didn't have to do that. And also, Rhysand drove the whole way here. I'll help you—"

"I'm fine," Rhysand says immediately, shaking his head. "I'll get the bags." He sends Andy a small, nervous smile and goes out the door.

Andy faces her dad with a frown. "Don't terrorize him, please."

He drops the scary-dad act. "I'm not," he dad defends, blinking innocently. "Well, he's handsome at least. And tall. And he has manners."

"And he's a good cook," Andy adds, grinning. "And he's hardworking, and caring, and kind—"

"Okay, yeah, enough of that," he says gruffly, scrunching his face in disgust. "But I'm serious about the mattress, young lady."

Andy huffs. "We're not children."

"You're still my daughter and this is my house." Her dad puts on the pink apron sitting on the counter. "If only we had an extra room...what about the sofa?"

"I am not making my boyfriend sleep on the sofa."

"Stop saying that word, kid, it sounds like demons in my head—"

Rhysand comes in, carrying his and Andy's bags with no difficulty. "Sunshine, wanna point me to where your room is?"

Andy makes a move to grab her bag, but Rhysand pulls it out of her reach.

"I got it," he says with a small smile. "Lead the way."

Andy lets him impress her dad. She bites her lip to keep from laughing and runs up the stairs first, Rhysand closely following behind her.

There is...there really is a mattress on the floor, with pillows and two blankets. Andy groans as Rhysand sets their bags on the floor near the closet. "I'm so sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," he assures her, curling his hand around her waist. Andy leans into him. "He's your dad. I get it."

"What do you think?" she asks into his chest, tiptoeing so her arms can reach his neck.

"Cozy," he says, looking around. "Warm. I can imagine you in high school sitting on that desk."

"About my dad, not my room," Andy says, laughing. "And you wouldn't want to meet me in high school, I was a loser. Didn't have friends."

"I'd have been your friend," he murmurs, bending down to kiss her forehead. "More than your friend, actually."

Andy flushes. "Rhys."

"I'd act dumb so you can offer to tutor me and I can just stare at you," he continues, stroking her skin where her blouse ends, "hold your hand under the table. Walk you to class..."

She looks up at him, smiling widely. "I'd have done all of that had Colin liked me back."

Rhysand glares at her.

Andy laughs and sits on the bed, squeezing Rhysand's fingers. "But if you were in my class, I'd daydream about you instead. Doodle your name in my notebook with hearts."

"You do that now, though."

Andy blinks at him. "What do you mean?"

His mouth pulls up at the corners. "When you left your binder in my studio and you asked me to come get it. Before we were together. You have my name all over your notes with hearts and shit. You don't even listen in class—"

"Oh my God, no!" she yells, turning over to bury her head in her pillows. She kicks the air repeatedly. "No, oh my God, please, why did you look at my notes!"

Rhysand is laughing. "Sunshine, it's fine, I liked you already anyway—"

"I hate you, oh my God, I can't do this, I'm never going to help you with my dad—"

"Hey." His voice turns firm, and he turns her around on the bed, pinning her arms above her head. "Don't threaten me with that. Your dad is a different story, I'm fuckin' terrified."

Andy sticks her tongue out at him. "You should've thought about that before you decided to embarrass me."

Rhysand's hands come to her waist and, to her horror, he starts tickling her. "You're going to help me with your dad."

"No, stop, no!" Andy's laughing, she's laughing so hard and trying to catch Rhysand's wrists. "Please—"

"You guys okay?"

Rhysand is off her in a second. He stands up straight. "Yes, sir—Trey. Sorry, I was on my way down."

He narrows his eyes at him, then glances at his daughter on the bed. Andy's still laughing, but she sits up on the bed and smooths her hair down. "You get some rest, kiddo."

"No, I'll help cook," she says, shaking her head. "I'm scared to leave you alone with Rhysand."

Her dad rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to shoot him."

"That's what you say now," Andy teases, poking his belly. "Come on, I can unpack later." She grabs Rhysand's hand and goes down the staircase.

Cooking dinner is as interesting as far as meeting-the-parent gets. Andy's father makes an effort to talk to Rhysand, and Rhysand tries to keep the conversation going. It's awkward, and Andy's laughing inside, but her heart warms because they're both trying so hard to get along.

Her father never had to share Andy with anyone else. She can't imagine what it feels like to suddenly have her boyfriend in his home after a week's notice.

As for Rhysand, he almost never makes an effort to open up to other people. He's hard to read and he's incredibly protective of himself, and he almost never says what's on his mind. She can see that it's a strain to try and talk about himself to her father, but he's trying. And Andy loves him for it.

"Can one of you please pass me the onions?" Andy asks sweetly, holding a hand out.

Trey and Rhysand both dive for it.

Her dad gives Rhysand a warning glare. Rhysand's jaw tightens but he lets go.

"Thank you, Dad," Andy says, laughing as he hands her what she asked for.

And Rhysand—he's a tease. When her dad's not looking, he squeezes Andy's hip through her shorts when he passes by or intentionally presses his body against hers when he's reaching for a bowl in the cupboards.

Andy pinches his wrist. "Stop that," she hisses to him quietly, sending him a glare.

Rhysand puts on an innocent face. "I'm not doing anything. Your dad's right there, baby."

Andy wants to kiss him.

Rhysand smirks, knowing exactly what she's thinking, and turns around.

At dinner, Rhysand hooks his ankle with hers under the table. Andy kicks it away and smiles at her dad. "Yeah, MJ is fine. She's working in the Chaucer-Hyatt Suites this summer. I'm actually planning to volunteer at a small school, too. Get some work experience."

Her dad nods at that, smiling at her. "That's a great idea, kiddo." Then, he puts down his fork and says, "Oh, Francis told me to tell you that Colin's going to be working in the warehouse, too. You should drop by when you can. Maybe make him some pastries."

Andy nods. "Will do, I actually—"

She sucks in a sudden breath. Rhysand's hand is on her thigh, stroking circles near the end of her shorts.

Trey raises an eyebrow. "You actually...?"

Rhysand leans back and grabs his water with his free hand. Drinking it innocently.

Andy grips her fork. "I actually wanted to see him while I'm here. Oh, since I'm baking, I'll bring some to the—station." She says that last word in a breathless mutter.

Rhysand's hand slid upwards, finger running along the hem of her underwear.

Her dad draws his eyebrows together. "Kid, you okay?"

Rhysand puts his water down. "I think she just needs rest," he says, eyes twinkling. Andy wants to punch him then kiss him. "We'll clean up quick then head upstairs."

Trey nods. "Okay. I'll turn on the television, then. Grab me a beer, kiddo."

Andy stands up, but Rhysand's already heading for the refrigerator.

Andy smiles, and they do the dishes quickly, then she's saying goodnight to her father and they're both running up the staircase.

"I hate you," Andy breathes once they're in her room, pushing Rhysand against the door to kiss him.

Rhysand is smiling against her mouth. One of his hands reaches down to lock the door. "No you don't."

"Don't do that in front of my father," she whispers, grinning, kissing him again and again and again. "If he sees you he's going to kick us both out."

Rhysand hums. His hands travel from her back, to her waist, to her butt. He squeezes her bottom and presses her to him. "Not touching you is harder than I thought. It's like I'm in a retreat and I made a deal with God."

Andy laughs and runs her fingers along the sides of his hair. "You're not religious."

Rhysand kisses her again. "I'm not," he says, eyes shining, "but I've prayed to Him. Asked Him to help me keep you."

"Romantic," she teases. "Are you saying that so I can return the favor? You're hard."

Rhysand's eyebrow raises. "Sunshine, your dad's downstairs."

"Be quiet, then." Andy grins and opens his button, dropping to her knees. "I need to take care of this. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you take care of it in the shower?"

"I've corrupted you so bad, holy shit," Rhysand says, gasping, threading his fingers in her hair. "Fuck, Trey is going to kill me. I already know he has a gun somewhere."

Andy looks up at him, laughing. "Be quiet, baby, okay?"

"Fuck." Rhysand groans quietly and clenches his jaw. "Okay. Go slow."

Afterwards, Rhysand kisses her and they brush their teeth together in the cramped bathroom, and Andy laughs with toothpaste in her mouth when Rhysand almost falls down in the shower, and Rhysand almost hits Andy in the face while trying to reach for his shampoo.

As soon as they're settled, Rhysand lies down on the mattress and Andy lies down on her bed. She pulls the blanket to her chest and faces him. "Are you seriously okay down there?"

"I'd rather stay here than get shot in the head when Trey catches us up there," her boyfriend mutters, closing his eyes. He looks uncomfortable, but his statement makes her smile. "Go to sleep, sunshine."

Andy's heart is racing just staring at Rhysand. "Thank you for being here," she whispers.

The corner of his mouth tips up. He opens his eyes to look at her. "Will you let me help you bake tomorrow? I've never seen you do it."

Andy grins. "We have to go shopping first. I need to show you around."

Rhysand nods and agrees.

So Andy takes Rhysand everywhere in Parkway, and he helps her bake even though he's not good at it, and he comes with her to visit Colin and the police station to drop off the pastries. For dinner, he and Trey work in the kitchen side by side, and Andy stays on the sofa and pretends to watch television but she's actually watching them try and bond. Her dad even offers a beer to Rhysand on his last night, and Andy heads up to her room to shower and freshen up for bed first.

When he comes in, Andy sits up. "You're alive. What'd he say?"

Rhysand rubs the nape of his neck. "He told me he'll castrate me if I ever hurt you."

Andy bites her lip to keep from laughing. "Ah, the dad talk."

"And he asked me if I'm going to marry you someday."

Her smile fades. She stares at him. Rhysand's face is unreadable. "And what did you say?"

Rhysand sits on the bed. He looks at her. "I said I'm not sure if marriage is for me yet," he says quietly, hooking his pinky with hers, "but if it's not you, it won't be anyone else."

Andy scoots forward to grab his face and kiss him. She remembers what she thought all those months ago, sitting across him in a diner: I am going to marry this guy.

She still wants to. But..."If it's not you, it won't be anyone else," she repeats.

Rhysand curls his hand on the back of her neck and kisses her hard, drawing his eyebrows together. "I wish you could meet my parents. No, not—I wish I had parents for you to meet."

She pulls back to look at him, brushing her thumbs against his cheeks. His eyes are glassy. "You think your mom would've liked me?" she asks softly, giving him a gentle smile.

Rhysand looks away, inhaling shakily. "Any parent would love you. I'm sorry I can't give you this." He gestures to her room. "Or future in-laws." He laughs once, bowing his head. "If that happens."

Andy's chest tightens. She kneels up on her mattress to hug him, and Rhysand buries his head in her neck. "Don't apologize," she murmurs, squeezing her eyes shut. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm just...I wish I could meet the people who gave birth to you, too." She kisses the top of his head. "Want to thank them for you. But that's it." Because they left you alone.

"Sometimes, I think about what would happen if I had a foster family," he admits quietly, and Andy's heart hurts so badly. "Would I have someone to call, or would I have a house to go back to with home cooked meals and beer on the sofa? That sounds nice."

Andy tries to hold them back, she really does—but the tears fall anyway. "You can have that here," she says, sniffling. "Call Dad and ask how he's doing. Come home with me and help in the kitchen. Watch TV with us on the sofa and drink beer—here."

Rhysand smiles against her shoulder. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I love you and I'm sad," Andy sobs, sniffling. "And I'm angry at everyone who didn't pick you."

"It was just a thought, sunshine, I'm fine," he assures her, wiping her cheeks with his thumb. "I'm fine, don't cry. I have you and Jenner. That's enough."

Andy kisses him.

He caresses her hair and stands. "I'll shower and go to bed. You can go to sleep first."

"I'll wait for you," Andy says, flopping back on the pillows. "And I need you to sleep here, with me. It's been three nights without cuddling and you're leaving tomorrow and I have to stay here for another three weeks without you."

Rhysand nods, squeezing her hand. "Okay. I'll be quick."

In the morning, tangled up in each other, her dad walks up the staircase to call them for breakfast.

Thankfully, her dad's footsteps are loud. Andy wakes up and pushes Rhysand off the bed.

He grunts in surprise and in pain, rolling over the mattress on the floor, groaning, "Sanford, what the fu—"

"Good morning," her dad says, pushing open the door. Rhysand sits up, blinking his eyes open. "Breakfast is ready. Come get something to eat before leaving, Rhysand. You have a long drive up ahead."

"We'll be right down," he says, nodding. "Thank you, Trey."

Her dad gives him a nod back and closes the door.

"Fuck," Rhysand says once he's gone, rolling over. "He really doesn't knock?"

"He didn't have to before," Andy says behind her mouth, smiling but also concerned. She shifts closer to him. "Babe, are you okay? I'm so sorry." A laugh escapes her lips. "I'm so sorry, oh my God."

Rhysand grunts and stands up with difficulty, disappearing inside the bathroom to wash his face.

Andy apologizes again with kisses once they've brushed their teeth, then they go downstairs for Trey's sausages and omelettes.

Andy helps Rhysand pack his things once they've cleaned up the table, and he insists on leaving the Jeep behind and taking the bus instead, but Andy shakes her head and firmly argues, "You need the Jeep to drive to and from work. You take it."

"Are you sure?" Rhysand asks for the nth time, furrowing his eyebrows. "I can just—"

"Rhys, just take the Jeep, I swear," Andy says, laughing. She pushes him to the vehicle. "Come on, put your bag in there."

Rhysand opens the trunk and tosses it inside. He faces Andy again, slipping his arms around her waist. "When you come back, call me, and I'll try to pick you up from the station," he says, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Okay?"

"Okay." She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly. "Drive safe, please. Text me when you get in. And no smoking."

He half-smiles. "Okay."

Her dad opens the door and walks towards Rhysand, holding familiar lunchboxes. He hands them to him, and Rhysand looks up with wide eyes, hesitantly taking them. "You like my food, don't you?" Trey asks, exhaling heavily. "So I made a couple of extra for you and your roommate at home."

Andy grins widely. "Aw, Dad!"

"Trey," Rhysand says, blinking. He looks at her dad, then at the lunchboxes, then at her dad again. "I—you didn't have to."

"Eat them all, alright?" he says, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be offended if you have some leftovers."

"Thank you," Rhysand says quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "For having me. And for this."

Her dad nods. "Drive safe, kid."

He turns around and walks back inside the house, winking at Andy on the way.

She pulls Rhysand in for one last hug. "My dad likes you."

Rhysand is still stunned. He doesn't hug back. "He—I have food. Did he just call me 'kid'?"

Andy laughs loudly and cups his face. "I love you. Drive safe."

He bends down to kiss her quickly. "Okay, I'm going. I love you too."

Andy watches and waves at him as he drives off. When the Jeep is out of sight, Andy heads back in her house and tackles her dad in a hug. "Dad, thank you."

He shakes his head fondly and ruffles her hair. "I like the kid. And there's no mistaking the way he looks at you, Andy."

She kisses his cheek. "Like he loves me, right?"

Her dad nods and sighs. "You said I was going to change my mind about him, and I did. He's got a good heart."

Andy nods. "He does. And I told you so."

*

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