Page 42 of Against The Rules

“Sounds like we’d have a good time comparing notes with your parents,” my dad says, somewhat more good-naturedly than usual. “Also sounds like you and Tyler have the same disastrous tendencies.”

Disappointment builds in my chest, and irritation chases it. I’m too old to be so annoyed with my parents’ little jabs at me, but good god, would it kill him to say he’s proud of me once?

Savannah’s hand finds mine on her knee, and she gives me a little squeeze of solidarity.

“Oh, they would love that,” Savannah tells my dad. “At least, my mom would.”

“No way do they have the kinds of stories our parents do,” Jacob says, laughing into his coffee mug.

“Probably not, but all parents have them, don’t they?”

“If that’s not the truth,” my mom says on a laugh.

“I bet not all parents have stories of their youngest son repeatedly totaling cars or constantly having to repair drywall.”

I go stiff, and Savannah rubs her thumb across the back of my hand.

“It’s a good thing kids grow up then, isn’t it?” There’s a hint of acid in her tone, but no one seems to notice it but me, both my parents nodding enthusiastically.

“What do your parents do? Do they live around here?”

I try not to groan, because good grief, they really are hell bent on interrogating her.

“My mom’s a dental hygienist, and no, they don’t. I came up here for college and then stayed. My mom lives outside of Nashville.”

“And your dad?” mine asks.

My mom elbows my dad, giving him a meaningful look at the question.

I don’t know the answer to any of this, and despite the fact Savannah and I stayed up nearly all night talking in Vegas, she didn’t say much about her parents.

“My dad’s not in the picture, never has been,” she says smoothly. “My mom was more than enough for me growing up; I really couldn’t have asked for a more loving and supportive parent.”

Pride wells in me. Savannah is the true definition of grace under pressure.

“Good for her,” my mom chimes in, seeking to soothe the awkwardness. “I love you, Ken, but whew, sometimes I think—”

“Who wants more coffee?” Jacob practically yells, cutting off whatever the hell my mom’s about to blurt out.

“Breakfast was really delicious, Jacob, thank you so much. Can I help you clean up?”

From across the table, my mom practically melts, starry-eyed at Savannah’s earnest question.

Satisfaction feels good. Getting Savannah over here to meet my parents is going just as well as I knew it would. She’s fucking perfect, and they are eating this shit up. Even my dad is looking at me with a new respect in his eyes.

They can’t find out I’m paying her to pretend.

“No, honey, you just enjoy. You’re our guest. Well, the boys’ guest.” My mom stands up, making a shooing motion with her hands. “Tyler, why don’t you show her around the house and property? Give her the grand tour. Your dad and I will clean up.”

“Yeah, I’ll come with you.” Jacob says, a light in his eyes I don’t like.

I tug at my collar, uncomfortable.

I shouldn’t have even thought this was going well. I have a bad feeling about the way Jacob’s looking at the two of us.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping. It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re making my son smile. That’s plenty. Now you two go on and show Savannah around. Maybe she’ll have a friend for you, Jacob!”