“Dean,” I began.
He looked down at me again, brows raised in casual anticipation, but I was cut off when the front door swung inward to my parents.
“Lily, you made it— Dear lord.” Mom’s eyes shot to Dean and only widened as she slowly looked over every inch of him, lingering on the parts of his tattoos she could see from beneath his white shirt. Her hand pressed against her chest as she did.
Dad straightened and pinned Dean with a glare. Only once letting his blue eyes flick to me.
“Mom, Dad, this is Dean...” I swallowed hard and looked at Dean, adding quietly, “These are my parents, Kate and Mark.”
That warm, casual smile reappeared on Dean’s face as he stepped forward and offered my father his hand. “Congratulations on the promotion, sir.”
Dad’s eyes scanned the crown tattooed on the back of Dean’s hand in seconds before he reluctantly shook hands with him.
“Thank you,” he said curtly, quick to take his hand back.
Mom was stunned into silence, but her eyes portrayed enough, sliding to me and full of disapproval. She only ever looked at me that way once before; when I had told my parents I was moving out. It hadn’t even been a fight. I brought it up in civil conversation several months after graduating high school. I told them Kira’s parents were more than happy to rent their apartment out to us. My parents lectured me for three hours on how bad an idea it would be. Miraculously, I convinced them it would all be okay.
It felt like that day all over again. Only this time I had to convince them my fake boyfriend wasn’t a criminal.
The irony.
Footsteps came from within the house before Jane’s head popped out from behind Mom’s shoulder. A devilish grin quickly spread to her face when she spotted Dean, and then raised her eyebrows at me.
“Who’s this, Lily?”
I looked at her pointedly but smiled. “Dean, this is Jane, my sister.”
Dean nodded once in greeting, half smiling.
Jane’s grin widened before she looked between our parents. “Can they come in or is lunch happening out here now?”
Mom blinked. “No, I mean, yes, of course. Come in.” She smiled though it didn’t meet her eyes. It was the kind of smile she wore when dealing with difficult clients.
My parents reluctantly stepped aside while Jane happily ushered us inside. I was tempted to check my father's gun was still in its holster in the locked closet by the door as I hooked my bag on the coat rack.
Dean was walking behind me as Jane led the way through the middle of the house. Our parents stayed behind, no doubt to discuss how they planned to get Dean out of their house again.
Confrontation wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but I wouldn’t let them kick him out. Though I wasn’t entirely sure how I would convince them not to. I tucked that issue away for later as we crossed the living room and stepped through the French doors leading onto the back patio, where the jasmine growing around the trellises was in full bloom, filling the outside air with its sweet scent.
It seemed Dean and I were the last to arrive, as the small garden beyond the empty patio was sprawling with guests. Already digging into the finger food my parents had laid out on the long table set in the middle of the garden.
I hadn’t really paid much attention to figuring out who from my family was able to attend as my eyes came to rest on Oliver, standing alone on the other side of the patio in a light pink polo shirt, cream shorts, and white loafers. His golden blonde hair was combed back neatly and he already had a drink in his hand as he looked over the gathering.
“Good luck,” Jane whispered, nudging me with her elbow as she skipped into the garden to join our younger cousins.
Her movements caught Oliver’s attention before he glanced over his shoulder. His smile quickly faltered when he spotted who was beside me, and a mix of emotions, mostly confusion, quickly crossed his face before he started to make his way over.
“Oh god, this was a bad idea,” I muttered quickly.
A tingling warmth bloomed from the back of my left hand as Dean lightly brushed his own against it. A casual graze of reassurance as he watched Oliver too.
“Hi,” Oliver said. He dragged his eyes from Dean to me, his eyebrows twitching with a frown before a worried smile spread quickly along his lips. “Wasn’t he the guy who fixed my car yesterday?”
“Small world, huh?” The smile on Dean’s face was far less friendly than the one he gave my parents only moments ago.
I gripped my wrist nervously as my voice wavered. “Oliver, this is Dean. My, uh—”
“Date,” Dean said, pocketing his hands.
