“Excellent. So if you wake up tomorrow and you have scratches on your back, it’s because I dream-fucked you against a tree, okay?”

“How the hell would I get scratches from a dream-fuck?”

“Hey.” I hold my hands up and walk backward. “I come in my sleep. Anything is possible.”

Her lips twitch. “You’re gross.”

“Honest, baby. I’m a twenty-four-year-old guy. I can’t help it if my default honest happens to be gross.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be your sixteen-year-old default?”

I drop my head forward and sigh, then meet her eyes. “I can’t help it if my cock never grew up.”

She raises her eyebrows. “I think we should probably get to dinner before you make a total ass of yourself.”

“I think you’re probably right.”

Unfortunately, making an ass out of myself happened long before we got back to my house. It happened right about the time I decided to invite her to dinner tonight—because I forgot that my grandfather was coming for dinner.

And if there’s one dinner you don’t want your fake girlfriend at, it’s one with your pops. A man who is currently sitting in the corner regaling Mila with tales of his time in the navy.

That’s right. A two-year-old.

“Pops, I don’t think she’s listening,” Conner mutters, looking at his daughter’s confused face.

“Of course she’s listenin’, boy! She just doesn’t understand,” Pops rasps in response.

“So why are you wastin’ your time?” Tate asks, smirking.

“Because the girl’s listenin’, and that’s a damn sight more than you little swines do!” he cackles, bouncing Mila on his knee.

“He’s crazy,” Kye and I mutter in unison.

“Whoa.” Jessie looks from Pops to us. “That speaking at once thing is creepy. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Can’t help it,” Kye replies. “One of those things.”

“No, periods are ‘one of those things.’ That is terrifying.”

“That ain’t terrifying!” Pops pipes up, finally setting Mila on the floor. She runs over to the dolls in the corner and busies herself fixing their dresses as Pops sits up straighter, using his cane to help him. “When they were eight, I sent ’em out to pick my tomatoes from the greenhouse. Now, I knew how many there were back there.” His half-moon glasses slip down his nose and he pauses to push them back into place. “Counted ’em myself. These two swines came out with half a bucketful and told me they were dead. Denied eatin’ ’em, and every word they said was in sync. It was like having a conversation with a drunk Siri.”

Jessie laughs into her hand, and even Sofie and Ella are snorting into their drinks.

“I remember that!” Tate nods, looking at us. “Yeah, that was fuckin’ scary.”

“Dollar!” Mila demands immediately, walking over with her hand out. She takes the bill from Tate and shoves it in the pocket of her shorts. “Tankoo.”

“How do you even know who Siri is?” I ask Pops.

“I got one of those eyeball phones.” He pulls it out of his shirt pocket. “See?”

“You mean an iPhone, Pops,” Kye says.

“That’s what I said. An eyeball phone.” Pops’s eyes spark with humor. The kind that says he’s screwing with us and he knows it.

Jessie looks down, her smile covered by her hand. Or so she thinks—I can see the edges of her lips just curved above her fingers. And there’s the hint of a dimple. It’s the smallest indent on her cheek, one I’ve never noticed before. She glances at me and moves her hand as soon as she notices me looking at it, and I drag my gaze up to hers. Her eye twitches in the corner, and my lips curl as I watch the fight in her eyes—should she show me annoyance or amusement?

Amusement wins out, and her eyes glitter with her silent laughter.

“Aidan! Have eye-sex with your girlfriend on your own time!” Pops yells, rapping his cane on the floor. “I don’t wanna see it!”

“Oh, Dad.” Mom comes into the room, wiping her hands on a dish cloth. “Phil’s ready to drive you home.”

“And I promised Jessie I’d show her my drums,” I say, standing. “So, I’ll see you soon, Pops.”

“I bet you did,” Kye sniggers.

I punch him. “At least someone wants to see mine.”

“Okay,” Jessie stands. “As much as I would love to see your drums, Aidan, I’m gonna pass. I have work early tomorrow, so I’m going to call it a night.” She turns to Mom. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Burke. It was wonderful.”

Mom embraces her. “You’re very welcome, dear. Come back anytime.” The last sentence is said with a hard look thrown to me.

Jesus.

“I’ll drive you home,” I offer.

“No, it’s okay. It’s a nice night. I’ll walk.” She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We’ll take you,” Sofie says, standing. “It’s Mila’s bedtime and your place is on the way.”

Jessie hesitates. “Sure.”

I bite my tongue so I don’t make some asshole comment. No doubt Mom would chew my ass out for it, so what I say is, “I’ll see you out.”

Mila kisses everyone, lingering for an extra-long hug with Pops, and grabs Bunna before holding her arms up for Conner to pick her up. He swoops her up easily, grabbing the Doc McStuffins bag by the door full of her things. Sofie follows them out the door, and I hold it open for Jessie as she waves good-bye to everyone.

I grab her hand on the porch while Conner and Sofie strap Mila into her seat. “I would have taken you home.”

“I know. But like Sofie said, it’s on the way to her place.” She looks away. “And I think we’ve spent more than enough time together today, don’t you?”

“Is that the real reason you refuse to let me take you home? Because you think we’ve spent too much time together?”

She snatches her hand away. “I don’t think we have. I know we have. Now I’m going to go home, get into bed, and go to work tomorrow, and I’m not going to talk to you for a whole twenty-four hours. Good-bye, Aidan.” She turns, flouncing down the steps and toward Conner’s truck.

The door opens behind me. “You know,” Pops says, shuffling out and stopping beside me. “Every lie begins with truth. Every legend was borne of reality. Think about that before you let her get in the car with your brother.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” He turns to me, his dark blue eyes shining with a wisdom I can only hope to have one day. I look at Jessie getting into Conner’s truck but don’t reply, and he continues, “It means you weren’t raised to sit on your backside while the truth behind your lie gets into a truck that isn’t yours and drives away.”

“You’re crazy, old man. I’m calling the assisted-living center for you.” I turn away, but he whips his cane up in front of me, stopping me.

“Call me crazy, but if you let that girl leave right now then you’re the crazy one, son.” His eyes bore into mine. “Take the advice of an old man. Your relationship ain’t as fake as you think it is. Go after her. Give the cameras something to snap, at the very least.”

“Fuck the cameras,” I mutter, looking back around as Conner opens his truck door. He glances back at me, eyebrows raised, and I say another “fuck” under my breath. Pops laughs as I turn and run across the front yard to the drive, slamming my hand on the back door. I yank it open and unbuckle Jessie’s seat belt.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieks, grabbing the belt back again.

“Takin’ you home.” I slide her legs around and, grabbing her waist, pull her out of the truck and set her on the ground in front of me. “Now, you comin’ quietly or do I have to drag you there?”

“You can kiss my sweet ass if you think I’m going anywhere quietly!”

“Have it your way, sunshine.” I hoist her up over my shoulder. She screams and kicks her legs as I carry her across the drive.

“Ads, what are you doing?” Sofie asks, following us.

“You. Truck.” Conner turns her and pushes her back around the truck. “Please.”

I yank open the truck door and deposit Jessie inside. Her hair is messy, and her cheeks are almost as red as her hair. I can practically feel the anger emanating from her as I slam the door and walk around to the driver’s side.