Page 85 of Game On

“No, she’s here for meetings and stuff. That’s what she said.”

“And how many meetings has she gone to in the week she’s been staying with us?”

“Um...” Dorian squinted, trying to think. “I don’t know. I’m at the office downtown in the mornings. I don’t keep track of what she does all day.”

Jamie raised his gaze to the ceiling. “God, it’s like talking to an obtuse child.”

“Excuse you?—”

“Come on.” Jamie rose and pulled him up by the hand. “Get dressed so we can go.”

Dorian dressed in a huff, and they left a few minutes later.

He, Jamie, Niall, Poppy, and Mona weren’t the first to arrive. Dorian’s brain being stupid had delayed them, so the Jamiesons’ driveway was already packed with cars when they pulled up.

Jamie’s parents lived in a modest one-storey house that had clearly been expanded over the years. It sat on a parcel of land near the city’s border that was about the size of a football field. Perfect for sending eight rambunctious kids out to play.

In fact, there were eight rambunctious kids—and three dogs—playing outside when they arrived.

“Those are Andrew, Alia, and Kevin’s kids,” Jamie told him, naming the three eldest Jamieson children. The kids waved at Jamie and Niall and went right back to playing.

Poppy, upon seeing the other dogs, scrambled to get out of Dorian’s arms.

“Let me take her.” Niall reached over to grab her. “I’ll take her and Mona to play.”

Poppy went willingly, leaving Dorian with nothing to hide behind.

Inside, the house was bursting with people. Dorian was introduced to siblings and in-laws, and when it was time to meet Jamie’s parents, he pulled on his most winsome smile and hoped he didn’t look as off-kilter as he felt.

“This is my dad, Clint,” Jamie said, jerking a thumb at a white-haired man with Jamie’s smile who wore a brown apron over jeans and a hoodie. “And my mom, Joanna.”

“Dorian.” Clint held out a hand from his position at the stove, where he was frying bacon. “Good to meet you.”

“Welcome, Dorian.” Joanna placed a basket of homemade muffins on the kitchen table. “I hope you brought your appetite.”

“And your patience,” Alia piped in as the front door opened and someone called hello. “Because it’s about to get crowded in here.”

Dorian stared at her. “It’s not already?”

But she wasn’t wrong. When the three remaining siblings arrived with their various partners and children, it was like being stuck in a closet with strangers.

“This is Holly.” Jamie pulled a woman with wavy chin-length hair close and kissed the top of her head. “She’s the artist whose painting is on your office wall.”

She, Will, and Niall appeared to be the remaining single Jamieson siblings.

Dorian offered his hand. “No kidding? I love that painting. You should let me pay you for it.”

“Nah. Consider it a gift.”

“What do you do, Dorian?” Andrew asked. He was the eldest, and he gave off competent and aloof vibes similar to Dorian’s brother, but whereas Phillip was a dick, Andrew teased his siblings with gentleness and made sure his kids had what they needed when they ran in for something.

“I’m the Orcas’ social media coordinator.”

“That’s not all you are.” Jamie nudged him in the ribs and leaned closer to whisper, “Tell them about your box.”

“Oh no, they don’t want to hear about that.”

“Trust me, they do.”

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