Page 89 of Prove You Wrong

‘Well, that was delicious, thank you.’ My mum beams at Nate, folding her napkin and placing it onto the table.

‘My pleasure, Gabby,’ he replies, shining his dimple on us all.

Dinner was a surprising success. I’m touched Nate went to all this effort, and relieved my mum and sister behaved like normal human beings. I would never have imagined everything to be so … okay. It’s probably because they had no notice he was coming over, didn’t have the chance to turn into baby-photo-wielding, embarrassing-story-telling lunatics.

It’s all a little unnerving. I’m half wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.

Nate’s always gotten on well with Chloe and he and my mum seemed to hit it off immediately. But should that be a warning bell right there? Mum was always an awful judge of character, men’s characters at least, parading a string of unsuitable beaus past me and Chloe for many years.

Should I quit while I’m ahead?

No. I try to force my lungs to expand. Take a deep breath. I’m just seeing where this thing between us goes. No pressure. No need to freak out or overthink everything.

‘We’ll clear up,’ I announce, insisting Mum goes and puts her feet up and reminding Chloe she has work to do.

There’s not much to wash up but it takes a while as Nate and I are too busy flicking bubbles at each other and snapping tea towels.

‘That’s gonna bruise,’ he chuckles after I get him with a particularly loud crack on his sexy butt. ‘I should probably get going,’ he sighs.

‘You running scared?’ I brandish my towel.

‘Not me.’ He puffs up his chest and gives a little strut over to me. ‘But,’ he dips his head to kiss my cheek, ‘it’s a school night, a work night and I invited myself over unannounced.’

‘It’s been a great evening.’ I grin up at him, wrapping his hands in my towel like a pair of cuffs.

‘It has … but I think I should head off.’ He flicks his wrists and somehow it’s me who’s ensnared in the material. A thigh clenching smirk crosses his face and he yanks me closer, his lips finding mine.

After I reluctantly see Nate out, Chloe reappears in the kitchen.

‘You finished your homework?’ I ask, hoping the answer is yes so I don’t need to nag.

Standing in front of the fridge, she ignores my question and waggles a bag at me. ‘You holding out on me?’

‘What?’

‘He brought pudding too –– cheesecake.’ She passes me the dessert. ‘Your boyfriend must really like you.’

‘He’s not myboyfriend.’ My tone raises up a notch and I fiddle with the packaging, flustered.

‘Are you kidding me?’ She frowns in disbelief.‘He cooks. He literally ferries me to school.’

‘That’s not how you use “literally” in a sentence,’ I tut.

Closing the fridge door, Chloe rolls her eyes and continues, ‘He’s helping you fix your car. That’s what boyfriends do, right?’

‘He’s a friend.’ I shrug, sliding the cheesecake onto a plate.

My sister pulls a face of disbelief, condescension, and general teenage disapproval.

‘We’ve only been on a couple of dates.’ The words come out breathy, a note of uncertainty in them, as if I’m asking Chloe for clarification.

She giggles. ‘He issoyour boyfriend!’

Focusing on the dessert so I don’t have to make feeling-betraying eye-contact with my little sister, I try to dismiss her teasing line of enquiry. ‘We haven’t discussed — oh, hi?!’ I almost drop the plate in surprise.

Out of nowhere, Nate’s back in the kitchen. Eyes wide, he gapes at me for a moment.

‘Everything okay?’ I place the crockery down with a clatter, heart pounding in my mouth.

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