Chapter 9 #2
[Mamá:] Pre-engagement dinner Thursday night, 7pm. I expect you and whoever this man you are seeing to be there. I refuse to meet him for the first time at your sister’s engagement party, that wouldn’t be proper.
I stared at the messages.
Just a normal torturous family dinner with Elliott, my fake boyfriend, whom I’d known for all of around five freaking seconds, my sister, my mother, oh, and let’s not forget about my cheating dickbag of an ex—or should I say brother-in-law to be.
No big deal, right?
?Oh, joderme!
The back of my neck beaded with sweat. The entire gallery was suddenly hotter than the Sahara Desert.
This was a bad idea.
A very, very bad idea that was going to blow up in my face.
Mal was the first to break the silence. “If you needed a fake boyfriend so bad, why didn’t you ask me?”
“Because everyone knows you can’t commit to the common cold, never mind a relationship,” Khloe answered first. “Given your reputation, no one for a second would believe you finally settled down.”
Swallowing against the rock that was calling my throat home, I offered Mal an attempt at a smile. “You’re my best friend, but you’re also like a brother to me.”
“People do say friends to lovers is the best way to fall in love,” he said, quieter than normal.
“Mal, between coaching and practice, you don’t have time for this,” I said. “Plus, my sister would see right through us.”
He shrugged in defeat, turning his attention back to the painting. If Mal’s life wasn’t consumed with swimming training, coaching the future swimmers of America, and ghosting any woman who started to show too much emotion, then sure, I might’ve considered him.
But Maya knew Mal as well as I did. She’d see through the lie in a heartbeat.
Sweat coated the palms of my hands as I scrolled through my phone until I found Elliott’s number.
He answered the call on the third ring. “Hey, Peaches.”
“Hey, sorry to call—hold up, did you seriously call me Peaches?”
“Just practicing some pet names for when we are out in public.”
“And the best you came up with was Peaches?”
“Would you prefer Honey? Or Sweetpea?” he said with a playful edge. “Hell, I am even willing to give Lovebug a chance.”
Despite the panic that was taking root in my chest a couple seconds ago, a whisper of a laugh escaped from me. “Please don’t ever call me Lovebug.”
“You got it, Dollface.”
Fighting back a smile, I attempted to ignore the two sets of eyes watching my every move.
“Is everything okay?” Elliott asked.
“My mother has invited you to dinner on Thursday night. She wants to meet you before the engagement party, but if you have work or—”
“I’ll be there.”
The tightness in my chest loosened. “Oh, thank fuck. You have no idea how much stress you’ve saved me from.”
“I do have one question. What do I wear?”
“My mother will judge you, whatever you’re wearing. As long as you don’t show up in a trash bag, you’ll be fine.”
“Ah damn, there goes my idea. What if it’s a really fancy trash bag with a matching plastic tie?”
A giggle escaped me before I noticed. “No trash bags. Wear whatever you would normally wear when meeting your girlfriend’s parents.”
There was a pause before he said, “Right, about that. I’ve never actually, you know, met a girlfriend’s parents before.”
“You’re joking?”
“Sadly, I am telling the truth.”
Elliott was mouthwateringly handsome. He was the reserved and respectful type, though I wondered how far that respect went because my dirty little mind imagined him and his strong, large hands being anything but respectful between the bedsheets.
Not to mention the man was a doctor for crying out loud—the exact type of man most mothers wanted their daughter to bring home.
It was hard not to be shocked that he had never met a woman’s parents before.
It was a bigger shock that not only was he single, but he was completely unattached. The fact that he was willing to give up four months of his life, to go without sex, gave me the impression that he didn’t even have as much as a friend with benefits fuck buddy situation going on.
Then again, with the hours he said he worked, it wasn’t a complete surprise that he had no time to put anything before work.
“So, you’ve never had to do the whole awkward meeting with the parents and sit through a dinner where you are grilled about how many children you want?”
“Never,” he half-chuckled. “You’ll be my first.”
The once dead flutter inside my stomach sparked into existence once again.
“I am sure I can pull something together,” Elliott said. “I’ll be presentable, don’t worry.”
“Do you want me to come over and help you pick out something to wear?” I asked without thinking. “That way I won’t have to worry about you rocking up in something that screams ‘I live in a hospital’.”
“I mean, I do have a classy pair of scrubs, ones that have never had blood on them.”
“Ha, ha. I know you’re joking, but part of me is worried you might be serious, so I’d rather come over and make sure.”
“Only if you have time.”
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I said. “In exchange, you’d better have coffee and something from Sweet Cravings waiting for me as a thank you.”
“On my way to the bakery as we speak.” I could practically feel his smile down the phone. “See you soon, Peaches.”