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“I can lose weight, Margaret. You can’t lose your bitchy attitude.” Bethel didn’t bat an eyelid.
“Aunt Bethel!” Reagan hissed.
“Are they always like this?” Lauren asked me quietly.
I nodded. “Anyway. Tell us about Mason. He was the guy you pretended to date, right?”
“Yep.” She grinned, her entire face lighting up. “My friends talked me into putting this stupid ad online when we’d been drinking, and Mason’s sister set it up. It was only supposed to be his high school reunion to piss off his ex, but then his sister told his mom it was real. I ended up having to do a couple more dates, but somewhere along the way, we kinda fell for each other, and yeah. Here we are.” She shrugged, but her smile still played on her lips.
Ava sighed. “That’s so romantic.”
“I fake-dated a guy once,” Grandma said. “But he was loaded, and all I had to do was suck his toes a few times, and he bought me whatever I wanted.”
I blinked at her. “You didn’t fake date anyone. We all know that was Grandpa. We’ve all heard the stories.”
Bethel nodded in regret. “He was the only man who was dumb enough to let this gold-digger suck his toes.”
Reagan cleared her through. “So. Preston. What’s going on?”
After quickly filling Lauren in on what happened before she arrived in town, I told them about our conversation last night and what he’d said.
“So he’s serious?” Ava asked, leaning forward. “You guys aren’t just going to bang a few times and break up?”
“Ava!” I squealed.
Lauren laughed.
Reagan smirked. “She’s pissed because she’s gonna owe me more money. Like she will tonight when your dad announces that Preston beat you.”
I rolled my eyes at them. “You two are ridiculous. I don’t know what’s going to happen with us. It feels like it’s too soon, but we have crushed on each other for a few years, so maybe it’s not. I don’t know.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Lauren said, putting down her menu. “Maybe just spending time together is all you need to do, like you did last night. If it’s meant to be, it’ll all work out.”
“She’s right,” Ava said with another sigh. “Even if I do have to give Reagan all my money.”
“Don’t make bets with me, then. I’ve told you that.” Reagan reached up and tied her purple curls into a low pony. “I just want to see if he actually threw our queen here off her throne.”
“So do I,” I replied. “I’ll also be glad when I no longer have to listen to him kissing other women.”
Ava grinned. “There’s the jealous streak I always knew was in there.”
“It’s not a jealous streak, it’s a…” I trailed off. I had no other answer for it.
“Possessive one.” Lauren winked at me.
I tried not to smile. That wasn’t a line I was going to use, because both Reagan and Ava would constantly remind me of it. Instead, I left it at that and used the well-timed distraction from the waitress to put an end to the conversation.
I hadn’t had a chance to think about what I wanted to do all day. I knew deep down that I was probably ready to end the kissing booth and pass it on to someone else anyway.
The problem was, in none of the scenarios I’d imagined did Preston exist.
I’d insisted for so long that he and I would never happen. I’d been adamant about it to the fact I was probably over-denying it at points, and I think I’d been trying to convince myself.
Now, it was happening.
It was possible. The guy I’d crushed on for years liked me back, and there was something beyond just attraction now. I felt it in the quiet moments when we were together.
Like last night when we were sat on the porch swing.
His arm was around me, and I’d just…sighed inside. It felt right and it felt real, and it felt like it was something special.
It didn’t hurt that I felt his kisses everywhere.
And I mean absolutely everywhere.
Now, I just had to figure out what to do about it all and how quickly I wanted to take things.
Still, I had a feeling that everything would be all right in the end.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – HALLEY
I Told You So
“Get a load of those abs!” Grandma hooted and hollered as the ripped and shirtless fire-eating guy danced across the stage.
I winced every single time he moved with those fiery sticks.
The stage was wooden.
I had no idea who thought it was a good idea to send that guy up there.
“Hubba hubba!” Bethel fanned herself with a bright orange hand fan, waving it like she was some heroine straight out of a Jane Austen novel.
“They’re getting a little carried away, aren’t they?” Preston whispered in my ear.
I nodded. We were sitting just off to the side of the judge’s table—although biased spectators were probably true for two-thirds of the panel, after the hot fire guy—waiting to be called up with Dad and find out who won.
