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“Since when are you such a romantic?”
He shrugged.
“Gen’s made you soft, huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “So what are you gonna do?”
“No idea. She flew out to visit her mom yesterday, and we’ve been texting back and forth a bit, but we never talked about what happened.”
“What exactly happened? Did you…?” We both looked to Finn, who was laid out on his back, holding the iPad above his face while kicking his legs up and down. “Did you fuck her?” Dylan mouthed at me.
I shook my head then took a long swig of my beer. “Didn’t go that far.”
Before I could change the topic, Dylan’s doorbell rang, and he frowned as he stood to make his way to the front of the house. I craned my neck, angling to get a view of Dylan opening the front door, and he asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too,” I heard Nate say cheerfully, and then he kicked his boots off. He tossed his coat on the couch, earning a grumble from Dylan, before patting Finn on the head and beelining to the dining room with two six-packs of beer and a reusable shopping bag.
He held them up, grinning at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, and he huffed.
“You two make a guy feel real welcome.” He sat in Dylan’s chair. “I’m here for dessert, obviously.” He placed the bag on the table, gesturing for Dylan to open it as he said, “It’s pumpkin pie. Evie told me I had to come check on you. Make sure you weren’t too brokenhearted over her being away.” He smacked Dylan’s arm. “You’re welcome.”
Dylan let out a long-suffering sigh but stalked off to the kitchen, returning with clean plates and utensils a few moments later.
“You had dinner somewhere?” I asked him, helping myself to unwrapping the pie.
He popped the top off a beer. “Lunch at my mom’s.”
I turned to get my kid’s attention. “Finn, you want some pie?” When he jumped up, I pointed to the chair next to mine, and he hopped onto it, immediately reaching for the whipped cream Nate had retrieved from the bag before folding it up.
Finn flipped when he spotted the can. “Quirt!”
“Your mom’s in Jersey, right?” I asked, cutting a small piece of pie for Finn.
Nate nodded and shook the can then squirted a massive amount of whipped cream onto Finn’s pie. I thought my son’s eyes might have actually rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy. I handed him a fork, and he dug in like a feral animal.
Nate helped himself to his own dessert. “My stepmom invited me over there too, but… Hard pass. Especially without Evie.”
“You sure you aren’t here because you’re missing your sister?” Dylan asked from his new seat at the other end of the table.
“No. Her text message specifically said,I know Dylan is crying. Go pet his head.” He reached out to Dylan—I assumed to pet his head—but Dylan swatted at Nate, who merely chuckled. He asked, “What have I missed?”
“Cheeseburgers and grilled squash,” Dylan said around his beer bottle.
Nate arched his brow my way, pointing his fork at me. “What’s up with you? How’s it going with Kennedy? She’s in Vegas, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“Dean told me he was going with Taylor and Kennedy.”
Right. Because Nate knew everybody.
“It’s fine,” I answered flatly.
“That sounded convincing.”
Dylan didn’t say anything as his gaze ping-ponged between Nate and me, basically all but holding up a neon sign that I was hiding something.
