I snort loudly, getting more looks. Once again, I ignore them and walk off to get my shirt since I’m already wearing the hat and have the sticker on my phone.
Okay, all together now—we listen and we don’t judge.
Me: Sorry. No free advertising here.
I grin when I realize I’ve stumped her. It doesn’t happen between us. She always has something to say, but the bubbles keep appearing and disappearing.
AmbrosiaMercer: As in you lied about the sticker on your cock?
Me: No. As in I haven’t been with anyone in a long while and don’t plan to be when I’m pining for someone else.
I’m coming out of my bedroom to ask Louis to take a photo of me when I hear my mom’s voice. I bring in my brows just as she and my dad take me in. Mom has a bottle of wine in her hand, and my dad is glaring at me as he looks at me. “What in the hell? I knew she was lying when she said nothing was going on!”
All the eyes in the room move between us. “Huh?”
He points at me, taking in my bright-pinkRowe Reporttee, which has a cartoon hockey player on it in the likeness of Rowe Mercer, holding a stick and a podcast mic in his gloves. Taped to his chest is a piece of paper that reads The Rowe Report. The hat has The Rowe Report in script, and the sticker is a puck with TheRowe Report written in the center of it. Dad’s eyes crinkle at the sides as he shakes his head.
We spent the morning together, having brunch after heading to the farmers market. Family time with all my family doesn’t happen often, but when it does, my cup gets filled. Am I the butt of jokes? Yup. Do Mom and Dad spoil Jennings? They do, and Louis and I hate it, but not really. It’s all a joke. We love being together. But not once did my dad bring up Ambrosia.
“When I talked to her, she told me nothing was going on between you two. But I should have known by the way she was defending you. And now you’re head-to-toe inRowe Report.”
My mom is grinning, her eyes full of excitement. “I told you I saw something between them.”
“Yeah, Dawson making a fool of himself, and her thinking he’s dumb,” Dad supplies, but Mom smacks him playfully.
I ignore all that. “She was defending me?”
He waves me off. “It doesn’t matter. Just don’t hurt her, okay?”
“No, it does matter—” I try, but Mom cuts me off.
“She was upset that you were sitting.”
I feel like I grow ten inches across the chest by how I puff up. “She was?” I ask, and like I’m still a teenager going through puberty, my voice cracks. Thewaswas way higher in pitch than it needed to be.
I smack my chest, but everyone is already laughing at my expense.
“Damn, he’s, like, really into her,” Ashlyn singsongs.
Not that I care.
Ambrosia defended me.
I knew she liked me!
“Are you coming with us?” Mom asks, and before I can ask where, my dad interrupts.
“Did she tell you we’re recording our episode today?”
“She sure did,” I lie. And listen, I’m not a fan of lying to my parents, but…yeah, I will for this.
“Ambrosia told you?” Dad asks, and I nod with more confidence than I have.
“Sure did. I was just about to leave,” I say, before I look over at Louis, who is slack-jawed, holding his vase with about fifty flowers in it. I wanted to fill it with over one thousand since that’s how many podcast episodes exist, but that idea is scratched. I’ll make her more later. Much to everyone’s surprise, since I asked them to stay all day and I was going to buy them dinner, I grab the vase from my brother and then look at my parents.
“But we weren’t finished yet—” Jennings tries, but I shake my head.
“This works. I’ll just ride with you guys.”
