Christian Parkinson's playboy lifestyle has taken an interesting turn when he met the sharp and witty Kylie Preston. She has something in her that other women lack - the guts to call him on his bullshit.
She's not the type he dates but Christian fin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kylie
"Are you sure this shirt is okay?" Christian looks over to me as he eases the car onto the driveway of my Aunt Becca's house. "It's not like I don't have more decent looking clothes."
"It's fine, Christian. We're visiting my family; not going to the GRAMMYs." I laugh, gazing out the charming house with adorable and colorful flowerbeds my aunt grew herself.
The house wasn't enormous and glamorous as Christian is probably used to. He grew up in a mansion and maybe partied at his rich friend's pool houses growing up. We have a small lawn that they kept groomed and a handmade mailbox that was a decade old. He's probably used to beautiful green vistas – anything extravagant – but when I glanced briefly at him, he was regarding my home like it was the sweetest home just as the sign on the doormat says.
He turns off the engine, squinting slightly at the windshield. "Is that a fat cat sunbathing in your lawn?"
"Oh." I giggled. "That's Tabby." I leaned over, smiling at the cat with a brownish fur lounging on the grass. I push the door open, climbing out.
Christian did the same thing and walked around to my side, holding my hand with his clammy one. He was... nervous. And I couldn't help but find it adorable. He expelled a nervous sigh then lead me to the door. He pressed a tentative finger on the doorbell, giving my hand a tight squeeze.
"Hey," I turn to him with a reassuring smile. "You're going to be fine. You're the best boyfriend ever."
His mouth crooked. "Okay. Reassuring enough."
Moments later, there are excited high-pitched voices behind the door along with a thick baritone and there were scrambling feet as if they're all racing whoever gets to open the door. Typical. The door finally opens, and it was my aunt Becca who jumped to give me a hug.
My three cousins stood giddily at the door, their dad behind them.
"Kyles!" They chorused then pulled me into a small huddle as they hug me, arms awkwardly tangled with one another.
"And this is the boyfriend?" My aunt Becca stood next to Christian, looking up at him with a wide gaze.
I squeezed my way out of the hugs and held out a hand to Christian which he took immediately. "This is Christian Parkinson, yes, my boyfriend." I couldn't help the cheeky grin. I stepped to his left side, my aunt Becca still speechless on his right.
My cousins made a crowing noise.
"Let me take a good look at you, son." This came from my Uncle Sam who nudged his daughters aside and stepped to the doorstep. "Sam McLaren." He sticks out his hand for him to shake. "Proud uncle of that beautiful girl right there."
"Christian, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." He stiffened when my uncle pulled him into a man-hug and patted his back. "Let's all get stuffed. My wife is the best cook."
