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“You’re getting off-topic.”

“We were never on-topic.”

“There never was a topic.”

She got up and pulled two beers from the fridge. She twisted the caps on both and handed me one before sitting back down. “Look, I know you’re attracted to Halley.”

“I’m attracted to half the women in this town.”

“And I’m attracted to this pizza, but I don’t want to fuck the crust into next week.”

“Reagan.”

“I get the inappropriate streak from Aunt Karen, okay?”

“And Mom. And Grandma.” I put my beer down and grabbed a pizza slice. “But I’m not giving you what you want. I know you have this weird idea about me dating Halley, but it’s not going to happen. There’s nothing there.”

She rolled her eyes. “There’s something there, Preston. I see the way you look at her. She’s the reason you don’t do one-night stands.”

“You need to lay off Netflix. All those romance movies are scrambling your brain.”

“Pres—”

“No, Reagan. And before you start, I’m not going to date Ava either. There are already enough insane women in our family without adding either of your best friends.” I hit her with a hard look. “No. Forget about it.”

She sank back into her chair with a huff. “Fine. I’ll forget about it.”

CHAPTER FIVE – HALLEY

Who Needs Family When You Have Friends?

“You could have told me.” I pushed the dishwasher closed, and it spurred to life. “I can’t believe you didn’t answer my calls. Actually, I know why you didn’t answer my calls—it’s because you knew I’d be mad.”

My dad sipped his glass of red wine and stared at me. “Are you done?”

“For now. I might call you to whine again tomorrow.”

“I will make sure not to answer.” He put his glass down and scratched his neck. “Look, we got to last week and nobody had put themselves forward. I put a call out to the family members of those who work in the council, but nobody answered.”

“So you thought you’d ask Preston Wright of all people?”

Dad hesitated for a second. “I called Robert,” he said, referring to Preston and Reagan’s dad. “I asked him if either of the kids were doing the fair, and when he said no, I asked if they’d like to do the booth.”

“Reagan refused.”

“As I assumed she would. She has to man the store while Robert and Joanna do the fair. Preston took a few days to think about it and only said yes two days ago.” He picked his wine glass back up with a shrug. “I was going to call you, but then we had a crisis at the office so I didn’t get a chance. Why are you so bothered, anyway? I thought you’d relish the thought of having some real competition.”

“Because she loooooves him,” my stepmom, Abigail, sang as she joined us in the kitchen, fresh from the shower. She rubbed her dark, wet hair with a towel and grinned in my direction. “Right, Halley?”

It was always jarring to see my usually impeccably-put-together stepmother without her makeup and lovely clothes, but it didn’t straight-up shock me anymore. “Wrong. I do not love Preston. I barely even like him—I tolerate him because he’s Reagan’s brother, but no. You’re wrong.”

She took the glass of wine my dad handed her and tossed the towel over her shoulder. “I’m not wrong. You have a crush on him.”

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t be something I’d discuss in front of my dad,” I said firmly, shooting her a look.

Here’s the thing: we’ve always gotten along. She’s always been closer to a fun aunt than a stepmom, but I guess that’s the perk of being a stepmom.

Abigail also knew exactly how I felt about Preston, and now I was really, really regretting telling her.

She twisted her back to my dad and gave me an overexaggerated wink. “Honey, the message light on the phone in your office is blinking.”

Dad muttered something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, “Can’t even eat fucking dinner with my family,” and left us alone in the kitchen.

I pursed my lips at Abigail. “Can you not do that when he’s around? This is a problem, Abigail. I’m in trouble.”

She rolled her eyes and sat down at the expansive island that spread across the middle of the kitchen. “You’re not in trouble. You’re being dramatic.”

“I am so in trouble.” I walked over and leaned over, resting on my elbows while still keeping hold of my glass. “He’s going to sit there on the other side of the curtain, kissing other women, and I have to listen to that.”

“You’re forgetting a fundamental part of the situation.”

“Which is?”

“You’re kissing other men.”

I paused. “Yes, but I’m used to kissing other men. Have you seen the women interested in Preston? They’re tall and skinny and beautiful and perfect and—”

“Oh, my God, Halley.” Abigail finished the rest of her wine and got the bottle from the fridge before she filled both of our glasses. “Who cares what they look like? You have got to stop comparing yourself to other people. Yes, the girls who like Preston might be tall and skinny and beautiful perfect in your opinion, but that doesn’t mean you’re right. They aren’t you. Being you is your superpower. Embrace it.”

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