“Knowwhat?” Alice repeats.
I’d second that question, but I’m not sure I want to attract any more attention.
I eat a bite of eggs instead, wary of the fact that any of these people might say something hilariously funny at any moment, though probably not this moment.
Vanessa keeps staring at Davis. “My dear twin brother found bones and an unexploded mortar ball in that old cabin he’s staying next to, and he wasn’t going to tell us.”
Tripp Wilson takes the last empty seat at the table. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think I’d prefer popcorn to cinnamon rolls.”
“Popcorn is delicious,” I whisper to him before shoving another large bite of eggs into my mouth.
He grins at me.
“Don’t flip your friends off in your head,” Alice says to Davis.
“And don’t hidecrime scenesfrom the authorities,” Vanessa adds.
Davis rolls his eyes.
Davis.
The man of no expression.
I bite into a cinnamon roll to hide a smile, andoh my god.
Everyone turns to look at me now.
Probably because I’m moaning like I’m coming over a cinnamon roll.
But holy crap. Beck’s not kidding. This is better than Grady’s. And I will never repeat that out loud so long as I live in Shipwreck.
Also, it suddenly occurs to me that I’m meeting my pretend fiancé’s whole family while demonstrating that I can make porn star noises.
What the fuck ever.
If they’re prudes, they can fucking get over it too.
“It’s good,” I say with my mouth full.
“Legendary,” Tripp agrees.
“She told me I could only have seven,” Beck says. “It’s not fair.”
“Honey, where’s Lila?” Tripp’s mom asks. “I thought she was coming too.”
“I’m here.” Lila, the redheaded owner of the Fireballs, also strolls into the room. Unlike Tripp, it appears she stopped in the kitchen first, because she’s holding a plate of food. “Had some weird texts from my uncle.”
“He broke into the museum last night and when Sloane caught him, she broke his rib with a water bottle,” Davis says.
Vanessa stares at him.
He pops half a grin.
And that’s when I realize everyone else is now staring at me.
But once again, I realize I don’t actually care what they think of me.
And the guilt? The shame over hurting someone?
