Great. The last thing I need is my mother getting in on the matchmaker business.
“Hey, Ma,” I say, stepping up to give her a quick hug.
“Janelle,” Rowan says warmly, accepting her embrace with a genuine smile that makes my heart do stupid little flips. “Smells amazing.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” she beams. “Have a seat in the living room. Your father’s already opened the wine.”
The house is exactly as it’s always been: warm, slightly cluttered, and filled with family photos. My eyes catch on one particular frame as we head into the living room. It’s me and Rowan, sitting on a branch next to the treehouse, legs dangling in the air as we grin at each other.
I quickly look away.
“There’s my baby girl,” my dad crows. “Hey, son. Good to see you.”
The genuine delight in my father’s eyes as he claps Rowan on the shoulder makes something twist in my stomach.
Shaking it off, I take the glass of wine my dad hands me and take a long, grateful sip.
“Okay, fam. Dinner is ready,” my mom calls.
We all head into the dining room and settle in at the table.
No less than a minute after all of our plates are filled with food, Logan goes and opens his big mouth.
“So,” he grins around a mouthful of garlic bread, “how’s the fake relationship going so far?”
The whole table immediately falls silent.
My shocked intake of breath causes me to choke on a bite of pasta when it goes down the wrong pipe.
Rowan immediately drops his fork and shifts in his seat topat my back while I cough uncontrollably. “You okay?” he asks softly.
“What the hell, Logan?” I manage to wheeze. Shooting daggers at my brother, I shift and shrug away from Rowan’s touch. His sigh is subtle as he picks up his fork.
My mom releases the serving spoon with a clatter as my dad’s fork freezes halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean, ‘fake relationship’?”
“It’s nothing,” I mumble, trying desperately to salvage the situation. “Logan’s just being an idiot.”
But my brother, the absolute traitor, leans in with a smirk. “Oh, come on, sis. They’re going to find out eventually. Might as well tell them about your little arrangement.”
“Logan,” Rowan warns, his voice dropping an octave.
“What arrangement?” My dad’s eyes narrow as he carefully sets his fork down on his plate.
Scenes of blood, murder, and mayhem flash through my mind. Seriously, it’s a full-on episode of Dexter up in this bitch right now. But before I can dive across the table and strangle my twin to death, Rowan’s hand lowers to squeeze my thigh.
Clearly enjoying our discomfort, Logan continues, “Turns out, our little Lizzy here agreed to be Rowan’s fake girlfriend to help him clean up his image.”
My mom’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Oh! So you two are hanging out again?”
“Mom, it’s not?—”
“I always knew you two would find your way back to each other!” She clasps her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. “You two spent so much time together after graduation before Rowan left for California.”
She turns to look at my father. “Remember, Justin? They were always hanging out, thick as thieves. Just like when they were little.”
“I remember,” my dad says gruffly, eyes darting between us with growing suspicion.
“It’s not like that,” I insist, though my face is burning. “It’s just... business.”
