I felt like frowning at him, but I merely nodded. I knew all too well that what he’d really meant was—Thank God you won’t be around my daughter all that much. Happy news for him, an almost unbearable side effect for me.

As I finished filling my plate with food, Kiera’s dad asked a question I hadn’t anticipated him asking. “So, what do you boys call yourselves anyway?”

Anna laughed while I studied my plate. Fuck. I had no idea what to say. I never thought I’d be in this situation, be around someone I was trying to impress, be around someone I wanted to like me. When we’d named the band, we’d all been in such a different place in our lives, none of us giving a shit about what anyone thought. Well, except for Matt, who’d made us shorten the name. Now that I cared I was almost…embarrassed.

Damn it. Well, it wasn’t like I could lie. Maybe he wouldn’t think anything of it. Maybe he wouldn’t understand the reference. Resisting a sigh, I muttered, “D-Bags.”

He started coughing on his food. Fuck. He probably understood then. Leaning forward, his cheeks a little red, he said, “Excuse me?”

Extreme discomfort settled around me, suffocating me. It wasn’t something I was used to feeling. Clearing my throat, I made myself look at him. “Um, the band…We’re named…D-Bags. It’s just…supposed to be funny.” He looked anything but amused. “We might change it…if we go mainstream.” That was a flat-out lie, because I already knew I wouldn’t win that battle. Matt wouldn’t want to do anything that could possibly disrupt our fanbase, and Griffin would chop off his left nut before he called himself anything other than a D-Bag. Good or bad, the name was ours for life.

Anna laughed while Kiera’s dad scowled at me. “You better not,” Anna told me. “I love that you’re Douchebags.”

I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing. Not helping, Anna. Although, it did effectively end the conversation and after a moment, peace settled around the room, and we all quietly ate our meals. And I had to say, it was so nice to have an actual, homecooked meal. It was even better watching Kiera enjoy the food. The way she was practically having an orgasm eating her cinnamon roll was turning me on. Like she knew it, she smacked my thigh under the table. Sorry. Don’t groan like that, and I won’t think that way.