Page 17 of The Kiss Countdown

She raises her eyebrows at Vincent. “Well, that’s a first. I can only assume he wanted to show you off.” Her eyes dance between Vincent and me. “It must be serious, then.”

I keep my expression pleasant but wonder if I made a misstep by saying Vincent was excited. Then again, I did try to find out information on the way here. If I’ve portrayed Vincent as someone he’s not, he has only himself to blame.

“How long have you two been dating?” Lance asks us.

“Eight months,” Vincent says, and I nod.

“Eight months and you couldn’t bother to bring her over for Christmas or Thanksgiving.” Camilletsks.

“Yeah, we missed you over the holidays, Vincent.” Lance kisses the top of Camille’s head. It looks like a silent communication between the couple, as if he’s telling her to play nice. “It’s not the same without you there. Maybe we can get you to come hang out with everyone before you take off.”

Vincent’s “Maybe” is noncommittal, and I don’t miss how Camille stiffens.

“So what do you do for a living, Amerie?” Lance says.

“I’m an event planner.”

Lance nods. “That’s awesome. What kind of events do you work on?”

“Anything, really. Baby showers, birthdays, family reunions.” Everything but weddings.

“Vincent is dating an event planner?” Camille smirks. “How ironic. Does he avoid your parties as well, or is it only family?”

“Oh. Um...” Yikes.

I glance up to Vincent for guidance. His jaw tenses. “Camille...”

“Don’t mind her. Someone misses their big brother coming around,” Lance cuts in. “We won’t hound you with a hundred questions. We’re just happy Vincent has someone to make sure he’s not trapped in his office all the time.” He winks at me and turns to Vincent. “So what’s NASA got you working on?”

Vincent goes on to detail the hours of training he’s been putting in for his mission, and I let out a slow breath, glad the conversation has moved on from our relationship and my career.

Until Camille catches my gaze. “It looks like you need a refill. I’ll go with you for a new glass.”

On second thought, maybe I’m not out of the hot seat yet. My drink is still more than half full, but it’s obvious Camille wants to get her brother’s girlfriend alone. “That would be lovely.”

“We’ll be back, boys,” Camille says, and aims a meaningful stare at Lance.

Before we walk off, I send Vincent a reassuring smile. Ihaven’t picked up any mean-girl vibes or the feeling that Camille wants to warn me off. And since Vincent hasn’t elaborated on his supposed relationship, I’m not worried about mixing up any details.

Camille and I head back in the direction of the refreshments, and when we’re a good twenty feet away she lets out a sigh. “So I have a confession.”

“Oh?” I’ve known her all of ten minutes and already she wants to spill the family tea? While I am curious about anything she may divulge about Vincent, I’m also cautious. I don’t want to know anything Vincent wouldn’t willingly tell me himself. Everyone is entitled to their privacy.

“Vincent probably has his suspicions, but the main reason I wanted him here tonight was so I could convince him to come to our mom’s birthday celebration. It’s this big thing where we spend the week out at our cabin. Vincent hasn’t shown up in years, which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but our parents’ anniversary is the same day Vincent is set to launch.”

“So your mom must be even more upset he’s going to miss out,” I muse.

Camille nods. “Exactly. Celebrating life is kind of our thing. It would mean the world to her, Dad too, if Vincent could at least make it for her birthday.”

We reach the refreshment tables, and I place my glass down without picking up another one. I’m relieved Camille didn’t reveal any deep secrets, but now I have a gut feeling about what she’s about to follow up with, and I wish I hadn’t left Vincent’s side.

She waves to someone passing by before setting her jaw. “I was hoping you could try to convince him for me.”

I try not to grimace. This is a one-night-only deal between Vincent and me, and even though I won’t be seeingCamille again, I don’t want to get in the middle of their family’s business or give her false hopes.

“Please?” Camille presses. “You got him here tonight, which is more than I’ve been able to do in years.”

She looks at me, and I wonder if Vincent taught Camille how to use wounded-puppy eyes or if it was the other way around.

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