“He writes movies.”
“Really? That’s incredible!” Her mom is gazing at me.
That was close…
“Porn movies.” Lois beams at me.
I gape at her. I’m not ashamed of what I do, but is she for real? This isn’t exactly family-friendly material.
“I had no idea they used screenwriters for those kinds of things.” Mary sounds curious.
“Right? That’s exactly what I said, Mom!”
“Of course they do!” Kesley shouts down from the end of the table.
“And how exactly would you know, young man?” Lois’s mom eyeballs him.
“Ask Dad.”
“Something’s burning.” Mitch sidesteps neatly, turning back to the grill, while Diego peers at me excitedly.
“So does it pay well?”
“Can’t complain.”
“Can you hook me up with an actress?” Jeff tries.
“Jeffrey—”
“I’m kidding, Mom!”
His mom might believe him, but I sure as hell don’t—not after the secret kick he just sent me under the table.
“Like I said, Lois,” her brother says, topping off his glass, “this guy is way cooler than your last one.”
It’s funny how the simplest of sentences can hit so hard. He just compared me to Kirk as if Lois were my girlfriend, and my eyes slide over to her, a bunch of scenes flying through my mind. It’s the kind of movie I would never normally shoot. The Florida sunshine has clearly fried my brain, and now I must be staring at her, because Lois raises an eyebrow.
“Have I got something stuck in my teeth?”
“No, I’m just shocked to see you packing in the calories, for once.”
“Since when do you diet, honey?” her mom asks.
Lois is sending me distress signals—I’m picking them up loud and clear. I cock an eyebrow, keeping my eyes locked on her.
“I think my pizza habit kinda put her off for life.”
Her mom smiles at me warmly. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her while she finds a dorm.”
“No problem.”
“I mean, you weren’t exactly down with it at first,” Lois adds.
“Maybe not. But I didn’t kick you to the curb like Kirk did.”
The words come spilling out of me, and when I hear Lois cussing under her breath, I realize what I’ve just done. Seems like she didn’t tell them the full story.
“Thanks, Lane.” She narrows her eyes, throwing her knife and fork down on her plate.
