All I know is my life is suddenly looking much different than I ever expected it to, and I’m realizing I might not be such a loner after all. Turns out that having people around you isn’t so bad, as long as they’re the right people.

While May is saying something to her grandparents, I rub my thumb over the thin material of Brenden’s sweatpants and tilt my head down to whisper in his ear. “I really like these pants on you.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispers back, beaming.

“Mmhmm. Almost as much as I’ll like you out of them.”

He sucks in a breath, but before he can respond, Elise says, “What are you two whispering about over there?”

“Nothing,” Brenden squeaks, managing to make the one word sound entirely guilty. I shake my head fondly.

“Secrets are no fun, Dad,” May says with a teasing glint in her eyes.

He turns red, further giving us away, but I just laugh. Flirting with him is fun when he gets flustered so easily.

“We were just discussing the possibility of you guys all coming over to the diner to grab an early lunch,” I say in an attempt to save him. Plus I wouldn’t mind that.

“Yup, that’s totally what we were saying,” Brenden says, nodding like a bobblehead doll. I give his hip a squeeze and try to hold in my laughter this time.

There’s a hint of a smile on Elise’s face when she says, “We believe you, dear.”

“We did have breakfast before we left the inn, though,” Grant says, “so I’m not sure I could eat again so soon. But I’d be happy to sit and have a cup of coffee.”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” May chimes in. “I’m starving.”

Brenden makes a face at her. “Hey, I made you breakfast! Don’t act like I don’t feed you.”

“You ‘made’ cereal,” she says with air quotes.

“But I cut up a banana in it!”

I can’t resist giving him shit. “A whole banana?”

He sends me a sheepish look. “Well, I put half in each of our bowls.”

“Okay, come on,” I tell him, using my grip on his hip to turn him with me. “I’m going to make you eat something with vegetables.”

“I want a burger,” he says petulantly, dragging his feet. “And that comes with lettuce and tomato.”

May snorts. “Which you usually pick out.”

“And toss off your plate so they don’t touch your fries,” I add.

He gasps, then shouts, “Vicious lies! This is a deliberate character assassination. I could sue you both.”

“How about a veggie omelet with bacon?” I offer.

“And ham,” he barters.

“And ham,” I relent.

With a one-shoulder shrug, he says, “I suppose I could eat that.”

As we all head toward the diner, I squeeze him again, and he jumps away squealing and laughing.