“Sweetie, do you know what’s wrong with your car?” Nancy asks Cassidy as I drape the cloth napkin over my lap. “Did you tell your father, so he can get it looked at?”

Cassidy shakes her head. “I’m for sure not calling him. I’ll get it figured out.”

“I’ll get it looked at for you,” Kyle says.

“It’s at the bar, but I’m going to have it towed,” Cassidy informs.

“Send me the bill for the repairs,” Rex adds.

“Now, let’s get you some drinks,” Chloe comments, her voice overeager, as if she’s compensating for her boyfriend. “We have sweet tea, lemonade, water, or I can grab a soda from the kitchen?”

“Lemonade,” Cassidy replies before peeking over at me. “My mom’s lemonade is to die for.”

“Lemonade for me too,” I reply with a smile.

Our drinks are poured, and we devour Nancy’s rib eye.

“Not to sound like an asshole,” Maliki says, sitting next to me on the living room sofa, prepared to most likely sound like an asshole, “but I’m not sure if you two are good or bad for each other.”

After dinner, Nancy brought out the dessert. And when I say she brought out the dessert, good ole Nance brought her dessert game. There was a chocolate cake, a cherry pie, and cupcakes. All made from scratch. I’m so full that I could not eat for another week, and I still wouldn’t be hungry.

Maliki reminds me of my brother. He is closed off, isn’t much of a conversationalist, owns a bar, and is dating a woman the complete opposite of him. Sierra is outgoing, pushes people’s buttons, and loud. She and Cassidy share similar personalities.

I bite my tongue, holding back the urge to tell him I couldn’t care less what he’s sure of. Instead, I cock my head to the side and mutter, “Why do you say that?”

He grips his beer in his fist. “Cassidy tends to have a type … trouble, and no offense, dude, but you’re trouble.”

Here it goes. My past haunting me again.

I want to be trouble and tell Maliki to fuck himself and stay out of our business.

A criminal record shouldn’t automatically label me.

“I was trouble,” I grind out. That’s a lie. I didn’t break the law. I knew someone was breaking the law, and my silence bit me in the ass.

He drains his beer. “Told you, not trying to be an asshole. I get it, man. Your situation was fucked up, and not many people would do what you did for your family. I respect your loyalty. I’m only mentioning it because her cop brother and parents, who recently had to deal with her legal troubles with her ex, might not be as understanding.”

I slug down my lemonade. I’ve kept it strictly nonalcoholic tonight.