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Aunt Claire arched her brow. “Something you two wanted to tell us?”
I wanted to curl up in a hole and die. “Um...” Absolutely nothing came to mind.
Abe shrugged and threw his arm around my shoulders. “We’re dating.”
Oh my God. My stomach swooped and then sprouted wings, which, seriously, was not something you wanted your stomach doing. I stared at Abraham so hard I thought my contacts might pop out. Then down at my feet. My cheeks were hot enough they could boil water.
“You’re dating?” With my mom’s mouth open like that, she kind of looked like a fish.
I smiled tentatively. “Sort of?”
“Sort of?” Abe looked offended. “What do you mean, sort of?”
“Um.” Oh, shit. When had my life turned into a farcical comedy? I hated being the center of attention. I felt like a rabbit. A very red-cheeked rabbit.
But Abe was right.
I made myself bring my chin away from my chest, to an approximate parallel path with the ground. “Not sort of. Yes. We’re dating. Surprise!” If my arms hadn’t been frozen, I might have done jazz hands.
It was probably a really good thing my hands were frozen.
“All right, nothing to see here.” Grandma Krasner started herding people away from us. “Leave the young ones alone.”
Thank God. Thankgodthankgodthankgod. Maybe I could remember how to breathe now.
One of the younger cousins, now out of sight, let out a confused whine. “But I thought they weren’t dating!”
Grandma Krasner took my gaping mother’s arm, and then her gaping daughter-in-law’s arm, and then she closed the pantry doors again quite firmly.
Oxygen in, oxygen out.
“See?” Abe smiled down at me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I stared at him.
He tapped my cheek. “Are you still in shock?”
“What colors?”
He frowned.
“For the wedding,” I clarified. “Which our mothers are planning right now.”
He grinned slowly. “Red, black, and gold.”
That snapped me out of my shock enough to frown at him. “You can’t have the Leopards colors as your wedding theme.”
He raised a brow. “Why not? You asked for my input. They’re my favorite colors.”
I rolled my eyes again, because if I was regressing, I might as well do it one hundred percent. “We’re not actually planning a wedding, doofus.”
“Aren’t we?” he asked lightly.
Oh my God, what? What just happened there?
He took my hand. “Come on. Let’s go see if there’s more pie.”
Pie? How could he switch topics so easily? “Aren’t you full yet?” I asked helplessly.
