“No problems, I do, so I’ll just head off as soon as I’m done, and I will grab breakfast at the office. Oh, and I’m having lunch with my mother and sisters today and then kicking on with my sisters after Mum leaves, basically so we can talk about her or about the things that we definitely do no not want to share with our mother.” I grab a towel and wipe down the machine, and Forrest is doing the same with the weight bench.

“I get it. But just a reminder of that dinner with my parents that my mum kindly invited herself to when Flynn mentioned you were staying with me. It’s tomorrow night, and Flynn’s cooking. So don’t insult him when you taste it and realize mine is better.” He winks at me. Taking the towel out of my hand, he throws them into the basket in the corner to be washed. “You don’t need to do anything, and I understand if you want to bail on us, but Felisha will be here, and I know my mother would really love for you to join us. I just apologize in advance for all the questions she will pepper you with. If it gets too much, just do what I do and handball it in Flynn’s direction. It’s my mother’s favorite thing to do, talk to the golden son.”

I want to say that I’m busy, but he is looking at me so hopeful that I will be here.

“Sure, your mum and dad are sweet, and someone has to be here to be the neutral person when you and your brother try to outdo each other with bad jokes. Oh God, you don’t get them from your father, do you? Will I have to listen to three of you trying to be the comedians?” I roll my eyes at him, but also, part of me is looking forward to watching him interacting with his family in his home.

After what he told me last night, I can’t help but ask the question. “Why are you letting Flynn cook? I can help you if you want to do it.”

He shakes his head. “Thanks, but it’s just easier to let the golden boy do it. It’s what they expect. Plus, it’s his punishment for trying to make Mum believe I…” He cuts off.

“Believe what?” I ask.

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, you better move if you have an early meeting. Starting the day on the back foot makes everything compound, and you don’t want to be running late so you run over into lunchtime with your mother.”

“True.” We both head to our bedrooms, and as I approach my door, he casually asks me as he keeps walking toward his room, “Sleep well last night?”

“Sure did. And you?” I reply out of courtesy.