Clarity of Lines by N.R. Walker

elevator button to go to the parking lot instead. And as we got into the car and headed out into New York traffic, Cooper said, “You know, Mr and Mrs Lionel don’t have kids.”
    “Mr and Mrs Lionel?” I asked. “You do know that’s his first name?”
    Cooper nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t know his last name, or his wife’s first name so I call them Mr and Mrs Lionel.”
    “Yet you know she likes struffoli?”
    He grinned proudly. “Of course. It’s all in the questions.”
    “Apparently you ask the wrong ones.”
    “Or the right ones,” he said with a grin. “Anyway, as I was saying, they don’t have kids.” Then he added thoughtfully, “I think they might want to adopt me.”
    I laughed at him. “You’re incorrigible.”
    He smiled as though I’d complimented him. “It’s a talent.”
    “It’s one of your finest.”
    Cooper grinned at me. “So, are you going to see me off at the airport? Stand in the terminal lounge, staring out the window, waiting for my plane to take off?”
    I snorted. “Um, no. I was going to drop you off at the departure terminal so I didn’t have to get a parking spot.”
    He gaped and narrowed his eyes. “When you get home, do me a favour and Google the word chivalry,” he said flatly. “It’s spelled c-h-i-v—”
    “Shut up,” I said with a laugh.
    “Or even look up the definition of ‘nice boyfriend’. I’m pretty sure it says ‘does not drop off loved one at terminal gate’ or ‘does not tell boyfriend to shut up’.”
    I laughed at him, but he smiled smugly when I turned into the ludicrously expensive parking lot instead of pulling up at the terminal doors. I even carried his bag and his satchel to the check-in counter.
    “See, I know what chivalry means,” I told him.
    Cooper hooked his arm through mine. “And you do it well.”
    “Do I really have to wait until your plane leaves?”
    “Maybe just until I board.”
    “Even that long?”
    “Your chivalry is starting to wane.”
    “It comes and goes.”
    He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, just like you. You came this morning, and now you want to go.”
    I barked out a laugh. “Okay, you win. I’ll buy you another coffee.”
    “And a croissant.”
    I led him to a coffee shop in the terminal and it wasn’t until he was about to board his plane that he was serious. “If you want to tell your parents today, then tell them. Do what feels right,” he said. “If you think it won’t go well, you can wait and we’ll tell them together.”
    I pulled him in for a hug and kissed the side of his neck. “Thank you, Cooper. You have a good time down in Philly, show them what you can do.”
    He sighed against me. “Call me if you need to talk,” he said. “About anything.”
    “You’ll be so busy,” I told him, pulling back so I could see his face. “How about you call me when you get to your hotel tonight? It doesn’t matter what time.”
    “Okay,” he agreed.
    I knew exactly what he was about to say. “Don’t apologise. Last time you saw my parents, at Ryan’s birthday, you had to pretend we weren’t together. The next time you see them, I want them to know exactly who you are.”
    “Oh, they’ll love me,” he said casually. “Everybody does. I’m more worried how they’ll be with you.”
    I rolled my eyes and sighed loudly. “Go get on your plane. Before you take off, do me a favour and Google the word ‘cranter’.”
    I could tell by the look on his face he didn’t know what the word meant. I smiled and kissed him lightly. “Bye.”
    I hadn’t even got the car out of the parking lot before my phone beeped with a message.
    Your use of the Urban Dictionary is outstanding, smartass.
    When I pulled up at traffic lights, I typed out my response. Your proper nouns could use some work.
    From chivalry to insolent in twenty minutes .
    I replied with his earlier comment to me. It’s a talent.
    I’m putting in my earphones and ignoring your insolent, gorgeous smartass.
    I smiled