“Good morning, honey,” Daisy’s mother said, setting a plate of pancakes on the island.
Seeing Jameson in her kitchen, she wanted to instantly recoil, especially while she still donned her oversized pajama shirt, but decided to act cool and continue in.
“Morning.” Daisy forced composure, sliding into a chair beside her dad, while the boys remained at the barstools.
“Where were you last night?” Sean asked, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth.
Daisy looked in between Jameson and Sean. She didn’t suspect Lenny had blabbed their business to him… yet.
“I saw Anna and Ryan making out for like ten minutes straight,” Sean snitched.
“What?” her mother exclaimed.
“Yeah, Mom, didn’t you know? Anna is hot and heavy with Ryan Parish.”
She shook her head. “Oh, that concerns me. I thought he was just a friend. He seems like a nice boy, but he’s so much older than her.”
“Don’t go meddling, Dena. It’s their business,” Philip said to his wife, while flipping through the newspaper.
Even though her father discouraged it, Daisy was sure that her mother would be calling Anna’s mother later to discuss her unease about her daughter’s new boyfriend.
She kept her voice calm. “I was there. Then I had to leave. Some of us still have curfews.”
Her dad rumbled, “It’s different for boys, Daisy.”
“That’s not fair.”
“One day you’ll understand.”
She ignored her father’s lecture on double standards and turned toward Jameson instead. He carried his plate to the table and slid into the chair beside her, close enough that their knees brushed. “Congrats on last night,” she whispered. “You were amazing.”
“I had some good luck out there cheering me on,” he murmured.
She bit her lip to hide her smile.
Sean plopped down next to them. “The ladies were loving themselves some Jameson! Frankie said he’s almost positive he can get us a gig once a month. Even more if the turnout keeps growing.”
Sean launched into a play-by-play of the show, their mom listening eagerly while their dad dismissed it as a passing hobby. Daisy tuned it all out, aware only of Jameson beside her.
When breakfast ended, she slipped upstairs.
“Daisy,” Jameson called softly from the landing.
She hesitated. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about last night. About Lenny.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I just hate that you looked embarrassed. I don’t want you to feel that way with me.”
Her palms grew clammy. “Do you think Lenny will tell Sean?”
“No. But he might spill it to Ky. I can’t promise he’ll keep his mouth shut.”
Her stomach dropped. “Then maybe we should… cool it. At least for now.”
“Daisy, no—”
