Followed ✓

.bonus chapter. (2)

Tugging at the sleeves of my jacket, I swiveled my carry-on bag off the jet bridge and into the gate. It was cold - colder than I expected - and I already regretted not wearing the scarf Andrew insisted I pack in my suitcase. Maybe once we grabbed it from baggage claim I'd fish it out, because - being from Texas - I was definitely not built for thirty-degree weather in November.

"Welcome to Fort Wayne International Airport," the voice over the intercom said while I looked around, soaking in everything around me.

It was a tiny airport with only eight gates, and something about the turquoise signs directing people through the terminal screamed the 90s.

Andrew bumped my elbow with his, smiling broadly at me, before nodding his head toward the sign that read "Baggage Claim" in bold white letters. He was relaxed and happy, clearly happy about where we were, but I was still full of nervous jitters. The flight over had been less than two hours, which was two hours more than I needed to overthink what was happening.

We were in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Tomorrow's Thanksgiving.

And I was about to meet Andrew's family.

"Cait," Andrew said, shifting his backpack onto his other shoulder before tangling his fingers with mine. "You're going to be fine. Stop worrying."

I snorted, "Easy for you to say. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Any family would be thrilled to be meeting you for the first time. Me, on the other hand, I look like I haven't slept in three days."

"Have you slept in three days?" Andrew asked teasingly.

I groaned, tossing my head back dramatically, before glaring at him, "You know I haven't! I've been too nervous!"

"And for no reason," he replied soothingly, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand as he guided me through the small swarm of people rushing to get to their gates. "They're going to love you. In fact, they already love you."

Biting my lip, I stared at him for a few moments before sighing.

"Your mom's name is Leslie," I repeated, probably for the fifteenth time in the past hour. "And your dad is Alan."

Andrew nods, "That's correct."

"And I can't just call them Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd?" I asked, as if he might change his answer.

He chuckled, squeezing my hand reassuringly, "Not unless you want to get on my mom's bad side. She insists on being called by her first name. Says Mrs. Shepherd is my grandma, and she's not ready to be that old yet."

"Wait," I froze, pulling Andrew to a stop with me. "Are we going to meet your grandma too?"

Andrew bit his lip, the corners of his mouth curling up in a smile that I knew he was trying to keep hidden, as he nods slowly.

"She is part of the Shepherd family," he explains with a laugh. "Plus all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins."

I cringed, "I'm doomed."

"You're not doomed," Andrew replied, tugging me forward toward where we would exit the secured area. "You're wonderful. Trust me, there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I nodded.

"Good," he said, steering me to the right and dropping the backpack from his shoulder. "Because here they come."

A horde of at least fifteen people fell upon us, most of them bundled up in thick sweaters, and I stiffened immediately. Before I could run away, however, a woman with dark brown hair swept me up in a big hug.

"Ohhhh," she said, squeezing me so tight that I could hardly breathe. "I'm so glad you're here, Cait! Andrew's been talking about you so much, I feel like you're already my daughter."

I glanced up at Andrew, who blushed bright red, and laughed nervously.

"Mom!" Andrew scolded her, holding his arms out while he waited for her hug.

His mom laughed, her voice like bells, as she released her bear hug from me and draped an arm over my shoulder instead.

"Psh," she waved his open arms away. "I don't want to hug you. I've been hugging you since 1989. You're good for now."

He scoffed, accepting a hug from a woman I assumed to be his aunt instead, before picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. A brown-haired man stepped forward, his eyes the same blue-green shade as Andrew's, and clapped him on the back.

"Don't be jealous, son," Andrew's dad said before pointing at my carry-on suitcase. "Just pick up Cait's bag and head over to baggage claim. The SUV is unlocked, and we'll meet you there."

Andrew rolled his eyes, grabbing my carry-on despite my protestations, while his mom led me past baggage claim and toward a navy blue SUV parked on the curb. A boy, probably ten or eleven years old, hopped out of the driver's seat and ran around to meet us.

"I kept it warm for you!" He said, grinning broadly.

Leslie smiled, "Thank you, Carter. Cait, this is Andrew's cousin. Carter, can you go help Andrew with the suitcases now?"

"Oh no," I interjected. "I can help him, really..."

Alan smiled, opening the door for me while Leslie practically shoved me toward the SUV. The interior warm and cozy, the faint smell of vanilla wafting out, and I glanced over my shoulder at Andrew while he stuck a foot out in front of the suitcase Carter was wheeling to trip up the young boy, who shoved him good-naturedly after recovering his balance.

"Nah," Alan said. "Don't worry about it. He spends enough time in the spotlight, we like to give him a hard time when he comes home. It's good for the ego."

By the time Andrew loaded up the suitcases in the back of the SUV and all of the various relatives piled into this and other cars, he climbed in the backseat next to me and pressed a kiss on my rosy cheek.

"See?" He said, breathless from a mixture of excitement and the cold. "They love you just as much as I do."