Page 65 of Sing For Me

Behind her, Rose looks like she’s choking with laughter. I’m going to kill her.

“What’s up?” my mom asks, joining us, and I groan out loud. She narrows her eyes at my reaction and my dad smacks me on the back of the head. “Was that your attempt at a welcome?”

“Hello mother, you look so nice today,” I say through gritted teeth and she smiles.

“Much better.”

“We’re just talking with Will about his new girlfr—” Uncle Reed begins but I talk over him.

“They were just encouraging me to go home early,” I say pointedly.

“But we’ve barely seen you,” my mom argues.

“He just got a text from her,” Aunt Daisy stage-whispers. “He probably wants to go home and get ready for their date.”

My mom turns back to me, eyes dancing. She knows exactly how annoyed I am right now and she’s enjoying it far too much.

“I just wanted a burger,” I mutter and my dad swears, turning back to the grill.

“Aw, damn it,” he mutters. “I totally forgot.”

“Told ya you were gonna burn ’em,” Uncle Lennon says.

“Shoulda let me do it,” Reed says, trying to shoulder his way in front of the grill. “That one doesn’t look too bad. You want a burger, Rosie?”

“Why does she get the not-burned one?” I ask. “I got here first.”

“I’m married to the guy,” Aunt Paige points out. “And you don’t see him offering it to me. You just need to accept that they all love Rose the most and always will.”

My best friend grins at me, batting her eyelashes, and I shove her shoulder while she laughs.

“Let me put some fresh patties on here,” my dad says. “You can have one of those, Son.” He sees me start to turn away from the patio. “Hey where are you going?”

“You think I’m going to sit here for the next ten minutes while they cook? You’ll all drive me insane.”

“Oh, come on.” Aunt Daisy pulls me down into the chair next to her. “There’s nothing embarrassing about having a girlfriend—”

“She’snotmy girlfriend,” I grind out.

She holds up her hands. “Fine. Girl whom you are dating.”

“We’re not even dating! We talked last night and decided to just be friends.”

There’s a beat of silence on the patio and I feel all of their eyes on my face. “Well, that’s okay,” my mom finally says, breaking the silence. “You know, your father and I started as friends.”

He smirks at her from behind the grill. “Um, pretty sure we started when you picked me up in that bar, took me back to your apartment, and completely blew my mind in bed.”

I groan. “Can wepleasenot?”

“Fine,” she says, glaring at Dad. “After what was supposed to be a no-strings-attached hookup—”

“Mom.”

“I decided to be persistent,” my dad says, ignoring me.

“Obnoxious,” she argues.

“Semantics.” He waves the spatula around. “The point is, I convinced your mom we could just be friends. And that’s how we got to know each other. And trust each other.”