Page 152 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“It’s not that simple.”
She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders, her lips pressed together in a show of determination that immediately impresses me. “What if I go with you?”
My heart jumps at the thought.
“As your date,” she finishes. “Then Jocelyn can’t say anything at all. Because you won’t be there alone.”
The idea is not a terrible one, but it’s possible I’m being unreasonably swayed by the fact that technically, Lila just asked me on a date. Her motivations are suspect—this could be altruism and nothing more—but maybe itissomething more.
“My date, huh?” I ask. I’m totally digging, but I don’t even care.
She smiles. “Come on. Don’t pretend like you weren’t planning on asking me out at the end of today.”
Heat flushes my cheeks, though she’s not wrong. I don’t know why I feel embarrassed that she figured me out. “Am I really that obvious?”
“I mean, I can’t really imagine you hand-feeding apples to your mom.”
This woman.I chuckle and shake my head before rubbing a hand across my beard. “A high school reunion isn’t much of a date, Lila. Especially since I know my ex-wife will be there. She’ll try and talk to you, and there’s no guarantee she won’t be unkind.”
“Perry,” Lila says gently. “The first time I met you in person, my five-year-old asked meout loud in front of youif you could be his stepdad, and you didn’t fire me. I think I can handle an encounter with your ex-wife.”
Something about the set of Lila’s shoulders says she almostwantsto handle an encounter with my ex-wife. Like she’s ready to be my champion, go in and slay all the dragons on my behalf.
Why is this mental image such a turn-on?
“It’s an overnight thing,” I say slowly. “Up in Asheville. An evening dinner party with drinks and karaoke, and then a breakfast the next morning. And it’s next weekend. You have Jack, Lila. Please don’t stress about trying to make this work.”
She waves away my concern. “No, I want to. It’ll be fine. I can take Jack down to see his grandparents in Columbia. Honestly, he’s due for a visit anyway.”
“And they’ll be fine with you scheduling a visit this last minute?”
“Are you kidding? His grandmother literally texts every week begging me to bring him down. It’ll work. I promise it’ll work.”
“You’re sure?”
“Call me crazy, but I think it sounds like fun. I love karaoke, and if we happen to give Jocelyn a little taste of her own medicine? I won’t complain.”
Weirdly, itdoessound like fun, which says a lot about Lila. Because if she can make me excited about a voluntary encounter with Jocelyn? That can’t be anything but magic.
Chapter Fifteen
Lila
I pace around myliving room with my heart in my throat and my overnight bag on the couch behind me. The house seems too quiet without Jack here, which isn’t helping me feel any less anxious.
Jack is fine. With his grandparents in Columbia and probably getting spoiled rotten. He’s stayed with them overnight before, so I know he’ll be okay until Trevor’s parents drive him back to Hendersonville tomorrow afternoon. I’m just not used to having so much silence to fill with my own thoughts.
And right now, my thoughts areloud.
A month ago, I was swooning over my new boss’s picture and giggling over the idea of working for someone one very close degree of separation away from famous Flint Hawthorne.
Now, I’m pacing around my living room waiting for Perry to pick me up for anovernightdate to an event at which his ex-wife will also be in attendance. (Yes, date. I’m wearing shapewear so no matter what Perry thinks about the reunion not counting—IT COUNTS.) There are so many things to process. So many reasons to freak out.
Seized by sudden impulse, I move to my kitchen table and pull out a chair, sitting down to evaluate the stretchability of my shapewear. So far, I haven’t done a solid sit test. I wiggle back and forth and try to imagine how this will feel after eating an entire meal. So far, so good. I’m really only wearing it to keep the underwear lines hidden in my—ahem—very curvaceous dress, if I do say so myself, and it’s managing that quite nicely. Plus, it’s moving with me pretty well, and sitting doesn’t make me feel like I’m suffocating, so I’m calling this late-night Instagram impulse purchase a win.
I stand up and start pacing again, one hand pressed to my stomach. If nothing else, I can kill time reliving all the little moments that have consumed me over the past nine days. The picnic, of course, since that’s where everything started, but there’s been so much more since then. Long looks. Tiny, intentional touches across Perry’s desk. Random texts that have nothing to do with work. It’s all been very friendly. A little flirty, maybe, but nothing that would truly raise any eyebrows. At least not to anyone observing from the outside.
But between us? Every touch has felt like fire, every look so filled with anticipation, it’s a wonder we managed to get any work done.
