Page 147 of The Fake Out Flex

And right now, I'm really kissing my real girlfriend.

For real.

"We're gonna be late," Evie mutters, managing to wrestle her lips away from mine.

"Don't care. Making out like teenagers is more fun."

"My mother will kill us."

I pull apart immediately. "True. We should get going."

Mrs. Freeman has always low-key terrified me, but I think I've done a pretty good job of hiding it over the years. I've heard enough stories from Levi—and more recently from Evie—to know she is not a woman to be messed with.

Her intimidation has this weird effect on me, making me super polite around her, which I think in some weird way has endeared me to her. But I am not willing to risk ruining that by showing up late to my first family dinner as Evie's boyfriend.

I push to my feet and extend my arms to help her up.

"Wow," she says with a laugh, sliding her palms into mine. "Can't believe you're still scared of Mom. I would've thought you'd have grown out of it by now."

"I am not scared of your Mom," I white-lie, pulling Evie to her feet.

I lean in for another kiss.

She ducks her head out of the way. "You so are. 'You look beautiful, Mrs. Freeman,' 'Can I get you something to drink, Mrs. Freeman?,' 'You're just so wonderful, Mrs. Freeman.'"

"There's nothing wrong with having a healthy respect-slash-fear of your girlfriend's mother."

Evie flashes me a dazzling smile. "Say the second-to-last word in the previous sentence again. Non-possessive form."

I lower my voice to just above a whisper and trace my fingers along her neck. "Girlfriend."

Evie's eyes flutter to a close.

I brush my fingers along her jaw. "Girlfriend."

Around her ear. "Girlfriend."

Across her soft cheek. "Girlfriend."

She's not the only one who likes the sound of the word. I do, too.

I'd been working up to asking her to be my girlfriend—for real—for a while, but getting the timing right proved tricky. Ideally, I would have liked to have done it in person, but our schedules have been crazy busy lately.

Her bringing up the invitation to a family dinner during a chat date last week was the opening I needed. I switched the call to video, waited the longest five minutes of my life while she got ready, and then I found myself asking the only girl I've truly loved to be mine.

I lower my hand into the arch of her lower back and tug her in closer to me.

A breath shudders out of her as she lifts her head and opens her eyes. "For the record, if this is my punishment for teasing you, expect a lot more teasing to come your way."

"Oh, I do."

I expect a lifetime of it.

But first, I have to survive a Freeman family dinner.

It's been a while since I've been to one, and I'm pretty sure not much has changed. I know what I'm in for. Plenty of fast-talking. Mrs. Freeman expressing her opinions freely. Mr. Freeman being totally laid-back and relaxed as ever.

And chilis.

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