“I’m a terrible liar, Abby.”
“Well, you’d better get good at it really fast.”
“Shit,” he mutters, tapping the screen and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
I settle into my chair while Ian says something back, taking another bite of bacon as I cringe at the idea of my brother finding out what Jack and I did. There’s no way in hell he or Lila would ever let us live it down with all the shit Jack has talked about them and their love life.
“Uh, Abby?” Jack’s and my eyes meet, his going round. “She’s still sleeping. That’s probably why she isn’t answering. Yeah. I bet that’s it.”
I grimace. He really is a terrible liar, but I find that kind of endearing.
Jack scratches at the back of his neck. “Today? Sure, man, I can do that.”
I’m digging into my food fully now, wondering how in the hell Jack got to be such a good cook. I thought Lila was the cook in the family.
“Oh, well…” Jack waffles, shifting on the balls of his feet. “I can ask her if she wants to. You know. When she wakes up. Because she’s still asleep.” He frowns. “I know I already said that. Dude, I just woke up too.”
Jack nods to no one, chewing on his lip. “Uh-huh. Sure. I’ll let you know what she says. I’ll meet you there in a couple of hours either way.”
I’m stuffing a bite of pancake into my mouth when he hangs up the phone; I cock a brow at him. “What was that about?”
“Ian and Dee are heading over to St. Michael’s again today to work with Kyle. They invited both of us.”
My brows rise. “Me too?”
“You too.”
“Is that going to be weird?”
“Why would it be weird?”
I shoot him a look, frowning.
“Oh, right,” he says, the concept dawning on him. “Because of last night.”
“Obviously, we can’t tell them.”
He makes a face. “Ian wouldneverlet me live that down.”
“So we agree we should keep us a secret?”
His lips curl so high that his dimple pops, and I have the strangest urge to lick it. “Are you saying there’s an us?”
“You know what I mean,” I mutter.
He reaches over to plop another kiss on my cheek, and it’s appalling really, how I keep allowing that to happen without even so much as a fuss.
“I sure do, lover,” he teases.
I groan. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you.”
“I mean, knowing me, probably? But I could think of a few ways to make it up to you.”
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively when he says the last bit, and I have to resist the urge to let loose yet another eye roll. What in the world have I gotten myself into?
Jack rounds the counter to his own plate, and I cock my head curiously.
“Where did you even learn to cook like this, anyway? It’s really good.”
