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“I’m not a playboy,” I insist quietly, earning a skeptical look from both women. “What? I’m not. So I like women; that’s not a crime. I don’t play anyone, and I never have.”
“Sure, but you’ve never been monogamous either,” my sister points out.
“I can be monogamous if I want to be.” And I do want to be. It’s terrifying. I try to say the words out loud but they’re not coming. My throat feels dry. I reach forward and tear Harper’s water out of her hands, draining the rest of it.
“Oh, honey. You’ve always had such a wild heart, but you have such a sweet soul.” My mom pats my hand lovingly. “They’re both good things. It means you’ll make a passionate lover and devoted husband to your woman one day.”
My dad waltzes through the kitchen. “What the shit kind of conversation is this?” His head pinballs between the three of us before he shakes it. “I’ll be out back. Avery…I’m sorry, son. I can’t help you with this one tonight.”
My mom dismisses him with a wave and then flips him the bird when he can’t see her. It’s everything I can do to keep from laughing.
“I just want you to find yourself a good girl, honey. Someone with a big heart, but someone who challenges you, too. I’m not sure if you know this, but you can be a bit of an arrogant asshole sometimes.” She smiles sweetly, as if that’ll soften the blow. “You get it from your father, of course.”
“Of course.” Yet as I consider my mom’s words, someone who challenges you, I know who that is. I watch my fingers drum at the oak table. “What if I’ve already found that person?”
“What?” Mom leads forward, eyes huge and round.
Harper’s body stills beside me. “Huh?”
I don’t know if they’re being jerks or if they genuinely didn’t hear me; I did kind of whisper it. I clear my throat and repeat myself.
My mom launches to her feet, slamming her palms down on the table. “You have a girlfriend? Oh my God! Oh my God!”
Harper sits in stunned silence beside me. When she finally looks up, her expression is pure betrayal. “Traitor,” she seethes.
“Claire’s not my girlfriend,” I insist weakly.
“Claire? Oh my God! She has a name! Claire! What does she look like? What does she do? Is she a family girl? How did you meet? Oh my God, I love her already!” Mom paces back and forth in the kitchen, wearing a hole right through the old hardwood, fanning herself with her hand.
Well, this was a huge mistake.
“I said she’snotmy girlfriend.”
Mom halts her movements, frowning. “I don’t get it. You said you found your person.”
“Sure, but that’s about it. I don’t really know where to go from here,” I admit, lifting one shoulder and letting it fall. I’m going for nonchalance. Not sure it works.
Harper snorts a laugh. “What do you mean you don’t know where to go from here? You ask her out. Have you seriously been fucking and chucking so long you don’t know the basic premise of dating?” Mom swats her with a dishtowel.
“Yes, Harp, I know what dating entails.” I place my hand on my knee, trying to still its bounce. “What I mean is, I’ve asked her out. More than once. She keeps saying no.”
Harper keels over the table, slapping it while she laughs a loud, ridiculous, patronizing laugh. I resist the urge to flick her in the face. “Sounds like she doesn’t like you. That must be incredibly difficult for you to wrap your thick skull around.” She taps a finger to my temple before I can swat her hand away.
“That’s not it. She likes me, I know she does. We’ve…kissed. A few times. She just thinks it’s not a good idea.”
“I don’t understand, honey,” Mom says, finally sitting back down. “If you both like each other, why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”
“She recently got out of a relationship and her ex…cheated on her.”
Realization dawns on my mom’s face, and maybe a bit of amusement, too. “Ah. I see. So she doesn’t trust you because of her ex, and because you’re a playboy.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” I remind her.
“I’m always on your side, Avery. You’re my son and I love you. But your sister is right—you haven’t had a girlfriend since high school, and you do have a bit of a reputation with the ladies. My goodness, you’re with a new one every week.” I hate that my mom knows this, and I honestly don’t know how she does.
“But I haven’t been with anyone since I met Claire,” I admit sheepishly. My right hand’s been cramping up, but I’m not going to share that with my mom and sister.
Mom’s face softens, and I think I even see Harper’s eyes flicker. That admission right there tells them everything they need to know—that I’m serious about Claire.
