Page 332 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“I promise my family won’t bite. They’re good people. Silver Creek people.”
She nods. “I think I went to middle school with Lennox.”
So she’s older than me. I file this information away, adding it to the quickly growing collection ofThings I find sexy about Audrey Callahan.“You didn’t go to high school in Silver Creek?”
She shakes her head. “I went to NCSSM. In Raleigh.”
“That’s the North Carolina…”
“School of Science and Mathematics,” she finishes. “I really was the biggest nerd, Flint.”
“Really?” I say. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Her cheeks flame, but the smile that spreads across her face tells me she doesn’t really mind the teasing.
“For real. Come eat with us. Brody’s a total math nerd. If nothing else, there will at least be one person at the table who speaks your language.”
She nods. “Okay. If you’re sure your family won’t mind.”
They won’t mind at all. In fact, they’ll eat this up. But I’ve got more important things to think about.
Like what movie might turn Audrey Callahan into a believer.
Chapter Seven
Audrey
I smile as Flint’smother, Hannah, lowers herself into the chair on the other side of the long patio table next to the house. “How was the burger?” she asks as I polish off the last bite.
I pick up my napkin and wipe my fingers. “Honestly, it might be the best I’ve ever had. What was so different about it?”
“Oh, tons of things, probably,” Hannah answers. “Lennox is always trying something new. But I’m pretty sure the truffle butter is what made it so good this time.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that what’s happening right now is a very big deal.
I’m having dinner at Flint Hawthorne’s house.
With Flint Hawthorne’s family.
Even if I’m not particularly wowed by celebrity, I’m not so clueless as to ignore how much these circumstances would blow away the average thirty-year-old woman.
Ugh. Thirty.
I’m still not used to the sound of it.I mean, my sisters tell me I’ve been sixty-five since my seventh birthday—that I have an old-person vibe. But having an old-person vibe is very differentthan having an old-person body. And my thirtieth birthday has sent me into a spiral of worry about that very thing.
I’m a scientist. I know how these things work. I know the ovaries in my body are already holding all the eggs they’re ever going to hold, and every year that passes makes those eggs less and less viable.
Don’t get me started on how unfair it is that men can father children until they’re ninety-five as long their equipment is still working. But women? Nope. We get to have it all, sure. The careers. The education. The leadership positions. But if we want to have a family? Well, better fall in love before you hit thirty-five.No pressure. It’s not like it takes a long time to get a PhD. It’s not like your life when you’re in grad school is basically nonexistent. There’s time! Women can have it all!
Sometimes I feel like screaming.
Womencan’thave it all. Not without making some major sacrifices. Which is a problem because Idowant it all. I love being a scientist, but I think I’d also love being a wife. Maybe even a mom if my eggs can hang on long enough.
I look around Flint’s backyard, where his siblings are sitting, eating, bouncing babies. Olivia, his sister, runs Stonebrook Farm with Perry, so she’s managing to do both. And Tatum—I think she’s the chef? Maybe it’s just about timing instead of being an either/or situation.
And maybe my sisters are right when they argue that if I spent more time with people instead of animals, my prospects wouldn’t look so bleak.
Hannah looks over my shoulder and smiles as she points. “Look. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
