Page 9 of The Fangirl and the Crooner

I turn my attention back to the lady of the house just as she takes a deep breath and blurts, “My parents are coming to visit. They’ll be here in three days, and they’re planning on staying for at least two weeks.”

My eyes flare at her announcement. I don’t know all of the details, but Idoknow Keegan has very little contact with her parents, and they’ve pretty much cut her out of their lives. I’m not sure if this visit is a good thing or a bad thing, but one thing is obvious––Keegan is really excited about it.

She sits back down, and Trace pulls her toward him for a quick kiss. I can’t help but smile at the lovingrelationship they share, especially after the way Trace was determined to avoid her at all costs in the beginning. Chatter fills the room as everyone lobs questions Keegan’s way with one notable exception.

Looking back at Pressley, I lean closer, asking, “Hey, are you okay?”

She nods, but her nose twitches like she’s holding back some strong emotion. Gavin asks Keegan where her parents are staying, and Pressley’s body jerks slightly, though her tight smile remains.

“They’re staying here, with us,” Keegan says, and since I’m still watching her, I see another slight twitch in Pressley’s expression.

She swallows thickly and forces a brighter smile as she says, “And that’s why I need to find somewhere else to stay.”

“Pressley, we talked about this,” Keegan says before anyone else can respond. “You’re more than welcome to stay here. We have plenty of room.”

Pressley shakes her head while focusing on cutting off a bite of her enchilada. “And I told you, Keegan, I don’t want to interfere with your reunion.”

“You can stay with us,” Willow says, and I look over to see Gavin nodding in agreement.

“Thanks,” Pressley says, but I can see she doesn’t want to do that either.

Hell, I don’t blame her. Gavin and Willow have only been living together for a few weeks, and the house they bought––which was one of Trace’s rental properties––is small enough that she’d have trouble getting away from their constant physical affection. And even if thatweren’t a problem, Pressley would still feel like she’s intruding on their little love nest.

“I have a room open at the inn until next weekend,” Trace offers, but before Pressley can respond, I cut in, surprising everyone, includingmyself.

“No. She can stay with me.”

Chapter

Seven

Pressley

You could cut the silence with a butter knife, it’s so thick. I’m staring at Bram with wide, startled eyes, and I’m sure everyone else is, too.

“What?” I breathe, breaking the silence. “No, Bram. I couldn’t.”

Like the words are some kind of starting gun, everyone else turns their full attention to their food in some dramatic attempt to give us a modicum of privacy. Forks clink against plates as they start to eat, but Bram ignores them as he holds my stare.

“I have a spare bedroom, and it’s no trouble,” he says, keeping his voice low.

I just stare at him in a dazed and confused stupor, my mind reeling as I try to figure out the punchline of this joke. Because itisa joke, right?

I mean, sure, we had a very brief conversation about leaving what happened in the past and moving forward,but there’s a huge leap between that small olive branch andmoving in together. What is he thinking? Doesn’t he realize how incredibly awkward it would be?

“Then, it’s settled,” Keegan announces, proving she was listening to our murmured conversation. “Pressley will stay with Bram.”

I turn my wide-eyed gaze in her direction to find her sporting an impish grin while she waggles her eyebrows at me. I shake my head, the movement barely perceptible, and she rolls her eyes, mouthing the words “it’ll be fine.”

When I look back at Bram, he’s still watching me with a questioning gaze. All I can do is shrug as conversations swirl around us. Trace offers to transport my things to Bram’s place. Willow says I’ll love it because Bram’s backyard sports a huge deck with a glorious hot tub. Gavin makes some kind of joke about not wanting to know what’s swirling in that bubbly water, then grunts when Willow’s elbow connects with his ribs.

I remain locked in a staring contest with Bram, neither of us blinking as he waits for my answer, and I scramble for some way to decline without sounding like a massive ingrate. Finally, I close my eyes and breathe deep before opening them to refocus on his handsome face.

“Thank you. I accept,” I whisper, giving him a shallow nod.

His lips curve up slightly at the corners, and he returns the nod. “Good.”

I should be feeling relieved, but there’s a knot in my stomach that remains for the rest of the meal. I mostlyjust push the food around on my plate, my mind conjuring all sorts of disastrous scenarios that will result from this decision.

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