“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Brad sight lingers on the open yard.
I’m guessing he’s thinking about Taylor. The breakup was a hard one for him and me. Who would have thought that girl won me over?
“Hey.” Tanner waits for Brad’s attention. “Let’s get this show on the road. I have someone to impress tonight.” Tanner turns my way, shooting me his melting smile.
Is it some sort of threat or him trying to one-up me?
“Yeah, Brad. You know Mr. Shallow and Vain needs his beauty time.” I stand up, shooting a disgusted look at Tanner, before walking toward the house.
“Man, you guys have some sort of love-hate relationship with one another,” Curtis says, following me to the doors.
I abruptly stop and turn around, facing them all in shock. Maybe Curtis has witnessed more than I thought he has.
“You could say that.” Tanner sinks under the water and pops back up. “Let’s do this, Brad.”
Waiting for Curtis to reach me, I watch Brad and Tanner count off and then begin swimming. I long to join them.
Curtis bends over and kisses me on the cheek. “We should get ready. I told my parents we’d be there at six o’clock.” He leans across me and twists the knob, opening my parents’ patio door. At which time, I take one more look out at the pool.
Tanner stops mid-stride, stands up, and looks my way. It’s the first time he doesn’t bear a smirk. Between his soft eyes and apologetic expression, there’s nothing except for solemnness in his features. With a shared understanding that our feelings still remain, my head falls.
“Ready?” Curtis asks.
I think he’s about to try to find out what I’m looking at, so I place my hand on his arm.
“Yeah.” I step into my house just as confused about Tanner and me as I was two years ago.
“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL.” CURTIS’S MOM’S hands grip my upper arms, and she kisses me on each cheek. “Where did you get that dress?” Quinn pulls back and appraises my look.
Following her line of vision, I second-guess my decision about a cotton sundress with a simple belt. Curtis said it was casual, but I forget the meaning of that word is on opposite sides of the spectrum for us.
“Oh, I don’t remember,” I lie because Target isn’t in her vocabulary.
Plus, her knockout navy pantsuit probably cost as much as the whole women’s department at Target.
“I swear, I saw the same thing when I was shopping this weekend, but I can’t remember either.” She releases a light giggle.
I join because this is who I am with Curtis’s parents. Fake.
Switching intros, Curtis pulls his mom into a hug, complimenting her hair, while his dad shakes my hand.
“Piper”—he nods—“nice to see you again.”
“Thank you for asking us to join you, Hugh.” See? My parents taught me how to be polite, too.
“You and Curtis seem to be a joint deal lately.”
I’m not sure if he is welcoming me or if I’m a consolation prize.
I sit down, and Curtis tucks my chair into the table. Once we’re all seated, the waiter comes over and asks for our drink order. Figuring we’re going to Breakers later, I order a Diet Coke instead of a glass of wine. Curtis quizzically looks over at me before ordering a bourbon straight. He might be the only twenty-five-year-old whose order sounds more like an eighty-five-year-old. But it doesn’t take much to realize why he does it when his dad orders a scotch on the rocks.
Curtis and his dad begin discussing the case he has just taken on, grooming Curtis for the firm, and his mom focuses her attention on me.
“I hear your brother is getting married?” she asks.
I nod my head eagerly as though I couldn’t be more thrilled. “He is,” I confirm, plastering on a smile.
“We actually know his fiancée, Bayli. It’s crazy because her mom went to school with Hugh. They lost touch, but recently, Hugh’s fraternity held a big reunion, and her mom was there. We started talking, and I figured there couldn’t be more than one Piper Ashby.”
Since I blankly stare at her, surprised that Bayli’s mom would mention me, she adds, “She said how Bayli was marrying a twin and mentioned you both by name.” Then, she leans in to me. “Constance is hoping for Bayli to get pregnant soon, and she’s praying the twin gene carries down.”
I want to laugh because unless she decides to go to a fertility specialist and have test tube twins, there’s no gene to carry down. My mom isn’t ashamed to tell people that it took medical science to have us, which means Bayli’s mom and my mom have never discussed it.
“Oh.” I nod. What else am I supposed to say?
“I have to agree with her. Twins would be nice.”
Her lips turn into a knowing smile, and I’m tempted to look behind me because I’m not giving this woman grandchildren—at least not yet.
“My mom says they’re a lot of work.” I dodge the underlying comment, sounding like a moron.
“Not when you have nannies,” she excitedly exclaims.
I see where this conversation is going, and I need to veer it away and fast.
Picking up my menu, I search it over. I spot the steak section and contemplate ordering one, but I’m positive Quinn will order something light.
“What are you getting?” I ask her.
Curtis and his dad have their menus down, still discussing the case.
“I love their shrimp.”
Her hand touches my arm in a gingerly fashion. Great, I can order something comparable. It might not be a steak, but I’ll get full from shrimp.
Finding the shrimp area on the menu, I peruse the different varieties they offer. “Which one is your favorite?”
“Oh, no. I get the shrimp salad with a light vinaigrette.” She clarifies.
Of course she does.
The waiter decides to come by at the exact time I realize I’m going to leave here hungrier than when I came in. With my best manners, I order my salad with chicken, Curtis orders some fish, and his dad orders a steak, which I salivate over during most of the meal. If he wasn’t keen on me before, he definitely isn’t now. He caught me at least twice watching him bring the succulent piece of meat up to his lips.
By the time dessert is offered and everyone declines, my phone goes berserk.
Bea: Get your ass over here. I thought you said Dylan was coming.
Bea: Hot ass is here. Where are you?
Bea: This chick is like a damn puppy on Tanner’s heels.
Bea: Shit, they’re making out in the corner.
“Excuse me,” I say before standing with my phone in hand.
Curtis and his dad stand up, being the polite gentleman.
“Thank you.” I bow like a damn geisha. I weave through the tables, heading to the restroom, in a panic with visions of Tanner’s lips on the slut who is probably spread open with each foot in a pocket of a pool table.
Me: What?
Bea: LOL.
Me: Bea?
Bea: Ha-ha! I knew that would get your hooker-ass to answer me.
Me: I’m at dinner with Curtis’s parents.
Bea: *yawn* Boring.