Page 21 of Boyfriend
That was pretty much my plan too, and I shoot a grateful look toward the passenger seat.
“You’re very special, Weston. I never met a guy before who was his own cousin.”
I snort. “My family tree is twisted, that’s for sure.”
“Do you have grandparents?”
“Strangely enough—or not, depending on your viewpoint—my grandpa on my father’s side has gone a lot deafer since this whole thing went down. His way of dealing with the chaos is not to hear a lot of it. And never to wear his hearing aid. Can’t say I blame him.”
“Oh, that poor man,” Abbi says. “What a mess. No wonder you don’t like the holidays anymore.”
She’s right—I used to love Christmas. But the holidays are just a chore now. On the stereo, the a cappella group is singing “Jingle Bells,” and I’m just not feeling it. “It’s like I’m numb to Christmas,” I mumble. “But Lauren would shoot me if I skipped this party. And so would Stevie—that’s my little brother. He’s eager to meet you.”
“What did you tell him about me?”
“Nothing, I swear. But I never bring girls home for stuff like this. Neither does he. I mean—would you?”
“I tried on Thanksgiving, remember? It didn’t go so well.”
“Exactly.”
“We need a plan,” she says. “How close are we supposed to be? Am I just some girl you brought home, or are we dating? How thick should I lay it on?”
I chuckle, because I’d really enjoy watching Abbi turn up the girlfriend vibes. I wouldn’t say no to a fake kiss or two. Although that’s not really fair to her. “Look, you don’t have to do anything that isn’t comfortable for you. They won’t believe it, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” She gasps in mock outrage. “Am I not girlfriend material? I wore tights and a dress for you.”
“No, you goof. You are more lovely and convincing than any other girl I’ve brought home in three years because—”
“Because you haven’t brought anyone home in three years.”
“Now she gets it. Nothing against that dress, though.” I’d still like to touch it—or peel it off her. Although I’m not about to say so.
She clicks her tongue. “Weston, I think you doubt my acting skills.”
“It’s not that,” I promise.
“Still, it’s only fair that I get a chance to snow your family as well as you snowed mine.”
“Okay.” I laugh.
“Let’s go with the same story we told my family—we’ve been dating about a month.”
“Fine.”
“And what do I win if I can make them believe me?” she asks sweetly.
A kiss. “Um… a dinner that didn’t come out of the deep fryer at the Biscuit?”
“Yes! And that bottle of wine we never drank together.”
“You’re on. This will be fun. I mean—I totally snowed your stepdad. It’s only fair to let you compete.”
“Exactly.”
“But it won’t be easy, Abbi. My brother and I have spent the last two years insisting that relationships are for suckers. You can’t really live in my dad’s house and believe otherwise.”
She shrugs. “I like a challenge. Besides, it will make the party more fun, don’t you think? People will be gossiping about us instead of your stepfuncle.”
