Nice save, I thought. I could say what I wanted about Dean, but at least one of us was smooth under pressure.

Lizzie, who had been harboring a hint of suspicion since I told her about Dean, looked like she was fully convinced it was real. She was staring at us and shaking her head slowly, smiling. “I’m so freaking happy,” she said. “I can’t believe my little sister is falling in love.”

“Falling?” Dean said. He took my hand from under the table, laced his fingers with mine, and lifted it up for everyone to see.

“Nope,” I said before he could finish, because for some misguided reason, I thought I’d make less of a mess of this than he would. “We aren’t falling. We’ve already hit rock bottom. Well, I mean like good rock bottom. Like what happens after the fall is over. Love,” I said, because anxiety brain was slipping its stupid, shaky fingers over the steering wheel. “We’re super in love. I love him!” I squealed a little too loud, and then, because I felt the momentum of disaster starting to mount, I leaned over and planted a kiss right on his cheek.

His stubble tickled my lips and his skin smelled faintly of expensive cologne. Knowing my kiss was only an inch or two from his lips was doing things to me–things I didn’t care to admit, most of which were centered between my legs.

Dean put an arm around my shoulders, hugging me into his side and kissing me on the top of my head with a loud smack. He turned and smiled at me, winked, then turned his attention back to the others.

I was horrified, weirdly turned on, and almost positive that was what you could call a “victorious wink.”

11

DEAN

Pearl cornered me in the hallway outside the banquet hall. She’d made an excuse about her stomach not feeling right as soon as she could and excused both of us. She was whisper-yelling and giving me regular shoves to punctuate her sentences now that we were mostly alone, save for the occasional scurrying member of the wait staff.

“What was that?” She hissed. Three shoves.

“That was playing the part,” I said.

“Sugar Bottom?” Two shoves.

“Daddyplums?” I couldn’t help laughing. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I knew what underwear she had on. Except I realized I hadn’t picked out a bra for her, and now that I looked closer, I could see she’d taken that as a suggestion. Her breasts were definitely free and living life to the fullest under that dress. I could even see the hard points of her nipples rising up. Either she was cold, or she was enjoying herself more than she let on.

Naturally, I chose to believe the latter.

“Eyes up here!” she snapped. She gave up the shoving and walked a slow, frustrated circle with her fists balled at her side. “And if you put your hand up my dress like that again, I’ll kill you.”