Page 46 of Counterfeit Boyfriend
Just when I thought we’d escaped all the scrutiny and tenseness. I understood the hint of disappointment, since the woman clearly missed her daughter, but the hint of remorse in Gwen’s features scraped at me. “Sorry, that’s my fault, Mrs. Cosgrave. I insisted on stopping at D.C. and Gwen took me by the Department of Justice building.”
“I also insisted on stopping in D.C., and Evan’s being nice. I slept in this morning.”
“Well, you needed it after your allergy attack,” I added.
Forks clattered against plates and dinner came screeching to a halt.
“I should’ve advised you against bringing that up,” Gwen muttered to me before raising her voice. “I’m totally fine.”
“This is why you should move closer to home,” her dad said. “If there’s an emergency, we’ll be around to help. And Dr. Dorian already knows your medical history.”
“I can’t not live my life because I have a manageable allergy. I’m fine. See.” She spread her arms, the way she had with me. Then she patted my shoulder. “Evan took good care of me.”
“Do you have a backup EpiPen? I can call and get Dr. Dorian to get you another before you go.”
No way in hell was I going to comment on that subject, but I arched an eyebrow at Gwen so she remembered where I stood on that point.
“I have it covered. Like I said”—Gwen raised an eyebrow of her own, only both came along for the ride—“I can take care of myself. Now, can we please talk about something else? Like, literallyanythingelse.”
“Sure. Evan…” Her dad turned to me, and apprehension shot up my spine, leaving it stick straight. “Where exactly do you see your relationship with my daughter going?”
