Kade shrugs, already loading his plate with lasagna. “Same old. Classes. Study group.” The casual lie slides off his tongue. I know for a fact he spent most of the afternoon playing video games in the guest house—I could hear the gunfire and explosions through the wall.
Mom nods, clearly not believing him, but unwilling to call him out during dinner. David clears his throat, exchanging a look with her that I can’t quite decipher.
“We have some news,” he says, reaching for his glass. “Caroline and I have decided to take a little getaway nextweekend. Just Friday to Sunday, up to that wine country resort we’ve been talking about.”
“That’s great,” I say, happy for them. They both work hard—Mom as an interior designer,David managing his own small construction company. They deserve a break.
“We’re hoping you boys can hold down the fort,” Mom adds, her expression turning a touch anxious. “Take care of Lulu, and…well, behave yourselves.”
There’s a weight to her words that makes me look up. She’s staring at Kade, who’s slouched in his chair, barely participating in the conversation.
“No wild parties,” David says firmly, following her gaze. “Just a quiet weekend taking care of the house and the dog.”
“What, you don’t trust us?” Kade asks, his tone hovering somewhere between amusement and offense.
“We trust Emmett,” David says to his son. “And we’re hoping some of his responsibility might rub off on you.”
I stab at my lasagna, uncomfortable being cast as the good son. It’s a role I’m used to, but one that has created a steady undercurrent of resentment between Kade and me. Every time our parents praise my responsibility, it’s an implicit criticism of his lack thereof.
“Don’t worry,” I say, hoping to ease the tension. “We’ll keep things under control.”
As the conversation shifts to vacation plans—which wineries they’ll visit, which restaurants they’ve booked—my mind starts racing with possibilities. A weekend without parents. The house to myself. Well, almost to myself.
My thoughts jump to Serena Blake, the girl I’ve been on a few dates with.
Serena, with her long brown hair that she tosses back when she laughs. Serena, whose sharp hazel eyes seem to see right through everyone’s bullshit. Serena, who sits two rows ahead of me in Economics and smells like something expensive and subtle that I can’t name.
All our dates have been nice enough, but they didn’t lead to anything. We kissed once, but she never invited me over to her dorm. But a homemade dinner and a cozy movie night might help progress our relationship further…
My excitement quickly sours into anxiety. I’m really not a player. I don’t know how to ‘woo’ girls, and I’m out of practice in the dating space, what with my studies and swimming scholarship.
I steal a glance at Kade, who’s slouched in his chair, tearing a piece of garlic bread into smaller and smaller pieces. For all his flaws, there’s one thing my stepbrother excels at—charm. Especially with women. The parade of giggling, gorgeous girls I’ve seen coming and going from our shared space is evidence enough of that.
The idea that forms next is so absurd I almost dismiss it. But as dessert arrives—some kind of berry crumble that I mechanically serve myself while my internal debate rages—it takes root.
Kade could help me. He could tell me what to say, how to act, how to make this date with Serena perfect. The thought of asking him makes my stomach twist, but the alternative—fumbling through an awkward evening, watching Serena’s interest fade—is worse.
By the time we’re clearing the table, I’ve convinced myself it’s the only logical solution. Swallowing my pride is a small price to pay for a shot with Serena.
After helping our parents with the dishes—Kade conveniently disappearing the moment cleanup begins—I head back to our house. The night air is cool against my face as I trudge along the garden path, rehearsing what I’ll say. Behind me, I hear the screen door slam and Kade’s footsteps catching up.
We walk in tense silence, the only sound our shoes on the gravel. The security light flickers on as we approach our house, casting long shadows across the lawn.
I feel like if I don’t ask him now, I’ll lose my nerve altogether.
“I need your help with something.” The words burst out of me before I can reconsider, sounding stiff even to my own ears.
Kade snorts in disbelief. “Sorry? Didn’t catch that. Sounded like Mr. Perfect just asked for my help.”
I stop walking, turning to face him. His expression is guarded, suspicious, as if waiting for the punchline.
“Look,” I say, forcing each word out through gritted teeth. “Our parents will be gone that weekend. I want to invite Serena Blake over for dinner.”
“Serena?” His eyebrows shoot up, surprise crossing his features. “Damn, shooting high, aren’t we? What do you need me for?”
I stare at the ground, hating this moment, hating my inexperience, hating that I need him. “I’m…out of practice. With dating.”
“Out of practice?” Kade repeats, a slow grin spreading across his face. “As in, you’ve never actually been in practice?”
