When I make the mistake of gazing down at his hand, he takes it away.

“If you don’t want your dad to know you’re gay, then this is risky,” he continues. “I know he’s out of town right now, and we’d only be pretending in front of May’s grandparents, but still. What if someone else here finds out? You know how quickly Mayweather rumors spread. There’s no way people wouldn’t tell your dad.”

He's right. But I don’t see how anyone would find out. It’s not like I plan to make out with him in the middle of the town gazebo. Shit, I wouldn’t do something like that even if I was out. Public displays are absolutely not my thing.

And yet, the thought of making out with Brenden sends a flash of heat through me. But I shake it off and attempt to think this through.

My dad’s out of town. He’s stuck on crutches for weeks because of his accident. It would’ve been difficult for me to take care of him and keep a constant eye on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid when I work so much. Plus his bedroom is on the second floor of his house, and I live in the tiny apartment above the diner. So the easiest solution was for him to go stay with my aunt who’s retired and lives in a one-story house forty-five minutes away.

Honestly, that distance is the only reason I’m even letting myself consider going along with Brenden’s plan.

“We’d have to be careful,” I warn him. “But if we only need to act like a couple around them and May, it should be okay.”

His eyes fly wide. “Oh my god. May! Just slap me and call me stupid.”

“Huh?”

“I’m such an idiot! I need another piece of pizza.”

I have no idea how that’s going to help anything. But I offer him my untouched slice, which he doesn’t hesitate to take, even though there’s plenty left in the boxes on the counter. “Why are you an idiot?”

“I’ve been so busy freaking out, I didn’t stop to consider how May factors into this. I’d obviously have to tell her what we’re doing. She’ll think I’ve lost my mind!”

“I think you may have lost your mind,” I say. Because I’m willing to help him with this plan if it’s what he really wants to do, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s a particularly good plan.

He squints his eyes like he’s trying to glare, but it gives off more of a disgruntled puppy vibe than a threatening one. Then he sighs and picks at the pizza, pulling off some of the cheese. “I probably have. But I dunno. It’s like... I wonder if maybe they’re right? Maybe I am doing a shitty job here. Am I the worst parent in the world because I’m considering asking my kid to lie to her grandparents for me?”