Amy doesn’t look offended in the slightest. In fact, she seems to take it as a compliment. “No excuse. If she can’t handle your family, she can’t handle you.”

“How about being kidnapped and almost dying? Does that excuse count?” I deadpan.

Amy blanches, her buzzing energy freezing in place as she cuts her eyes to me. I wait two long seconds before letting her off the hook, giggling. “Just kidding. Well, I mean I was kidnapped and thought I was gonna die, but that’s not why we didn’t come yet. I told Blake I wouldn’t meet his family until he took me on a proper date. He did last night, so here I am.”

It started out sounding humorous, or at least my weird version of a joke, but by the end of my little explanation, I realized how horrible it sounded and started talking faster and faster to get it over with.

Amy blinks and then, with her eyes locked on me, she stage-whispers over her shoulder to Blake, “Oh, I like her. I like her a lot. You should lock her down immediately before she realizes that your good looks hide what an absolute dork you are.”

I whisper back to her, “It’s the dorky parts I like best. I’m a bit of a trivia nerd too.”

“No way!” Amy shouts, pushing my shoulder in surprise. “Frosted Blakes is such a weirdo, I never thought another human being existed like him. Robot girlfriend? Maybe. But not an actual woman.”

I hold my arms out wide, like ‘here I am’, and she beams.

“Blake, I’m going to say something I never say. Are you ready? Because it’s only happening once.”

I’m confused, and a look at Blake doesn’t provide any clarity. He looks just as confused as I feel.

Amy takes a big breath of preparation and says clearly, “I was wrong.”

“Holy shit!” Blake breathes. “Fernanda! Get in here! You have to hear this!”

Another woman comes in from the back of the house somewhere, carrying a wooden spoon and wearing a polka-dot apron. She’s naturally gorgeous, not a stitch of makeup on, her inky black hair down her back but shaved on the sides and tattoos covering her arms and hands.

Blake tells her, “Amy just said she was wrong.”

Fernanda’s brows, one of which is slit, lift high in shock. “She did not.” Fernanda and Blake both eye Amy in disbelief.

Amy throws them both an impish grin. “Too late. I told you I was only going to say it once.”

Fernanda looks to me and I agree, “She did say that.” Quieter, I also share, “But she did say she was wrong too.”

“Ay mi dios! Hell has frozen over!” Fernanda yells, but it seems like good-natured teasing because Amy laughs.