Saturday night, I spend forever picking out a dress. What do you wear to meet your not-a-boyfriend's parents? Everything is too tight, too loose, too conservative, too prudish. I settle on a plain black dress and my only pair of nice heels.

The entire drive to the restaurant, my stomach is filled with butterflies.

As I park and walk the stairs to the restaurant, my hands are shaking.

Adam's dad loved me, but Adam's dad loved everyone.

I take a deep breath as I press the ball of my foot onto the top floor. Mal only invited me as bait. We're only having fun. This isn't like when I met Adam's dad.

It doesn't matter.

Because Mal and I—we don't matter.

The thought makes me feel worse, not better.

I nod to the host stand. "I'm with the Strong party."

The hostess in the pretty black dress smiles. "We'll have your table ready shortly." She motions to the cherry bench pressed up against the wood railing.

"Thank you." I turn to take a seat—this spaghetti leg thing is getting to be annoying—but something catches my eye.

Mal is standing in the hallway across from me. He's next to the payphone, in front of the men's room, but he isn't waiting for either.

He's standing there in black slacks and a white button up-shirt.

And a tie.

Mal is wearing a tie.

Fuck, Mal looks good all cleaned up.

Good, but nervous. He's shifting his weight between his legs. It's the Mal equivalent of pacing. At least, I think it is.

"Hey." It's a dozen steps to the hallway. "You okay?"

"Yeah." His voice is hollow. He turns to me with a smile. But it's fake. His blue eyes are still nervous. "You find the place okay?"

"Yeah." I move in close enough to feel the heat of his body, to smell the mint on his breath. "Are your parents here?"

"Not yet. They had to run an errand."

"Was their flight okay?"

"Yeah."

"You guys talk about anything?"

"A little. We had coffee then they took a nap." His eyes stay on his shoes. His voice stays hollow.

"Wasn't that the master bedroom we had sex in?"

"I changed the sheets." He rubs my shoulder with his palm. His other hand plants between my shoulder blades. Finally, his eyes meet mine. "You look gorgeous."

"Thanks."

"You always do." He pulls my body into his.

He's shaking. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there in his shoulders and his hands. He's terrified about something.

I press my cheek against his. "You want to talk about it?"

"No." He drags his hand over my hips. His fingers brush the flesh of my ass, the back of my legs, the hem of my dress.

He slides his hand under my dress.

His fingers skim my inner thighs. "We have time."

"Time…"

He presses his palm against my sex, over my panties. "Time."

Fuck, it's a compelling argument. There must be something wrong with me, because I'm considering it. Here. In the bathroom. Back at his car. I don't care, so long as I get all his attention and affection for a few minutes.

My libido is raging enough to destroy common sense.

Or maybe that's just the power of Mal.

He has that heaviness to him today.

I want to help ease his burden, however I can. It's not a friendly desire. It's not sexual either.

I'm very willing to fuck Mal out of his misery.

But I want more than that.

I ache for Mal.

He brings his other hand to my chin and tilts my head enough for us to be eye to eye.

His eyelids flutter closed as he presses his lips to mine.

My heart still aches but now it's warm too.

This isn't casual.

Does he feel it too?

Does he realize it?

The way he's kissing me, all soft and sweet and affectionate—he must feel something.

A laugh jerks me out of my thoughts. I jump backwards.

Ethan and Violet are standing in the lobby.

He smiles. "Why am I not surprised?"

"We're just talking." I smooth my dress so it's no longer riding up my leg.

Ethan nods right. He's dressed up in slacks and an oxford shirt. Violet looks as polished and pretty as she did at the after-party in a fit-and-flare black dress with sheer lace sleeves.

Okay, the outfit is also really sexy. The purple peep toe heels, crimson lips, and perfect smoky eye—not to mention the way her strawberry blonde hair is pinned back—only add to the goth sexpot vibe.

She smiles. "They never believe denials. I learned that the hard way. It's better to say nothing than to deny."

He wraps his arm around her waist. "Should they test that theory by asking what we were doing before we came?"

She clears her throat.

"Thanks. I'll consider that." I try my best smile, but it's hard with all that frustration obvious in Mal's expression. "Should we get our table or wait?"

Ethan and Violet share a look. Then Ethan and Mal share a look.

Mal steps forward. "Why don't we sit down?" He makes eye contact with the hostess.

"Sure, sir." She grabs an impressive stack of menus. "Right this way."

We follow her into the quiet restaurant. It's a beautiful place overlooking Newport Harbor. The vibe is more romantic than familial—mostly couples staring into each other's eyes over the candlelight—but we're far enough in the corner that it doesn't matter.

Ethan and Violet take seats at the eight-person round table. She taps her crimson nails against the cream tablecloth.

Mal points to the seat with the best view of the harbor and pulls out the chair for me. Right now, he really looks like a nice boy to bring home to my parents. Not that my parents really care whether or not I date nice boys.

I slide into the seat and cross my legs. Shit, what do you do here? I don't go to fancy dinners. Only high school and college graduation.

I unfold my napkin and place it my lap. There.

"Piper give an ETA?" Mal asks.

Ethan nods. "She's on her way."

Mal and Ethan share a knowing look.

Violet clears her throat. "It's sweet you came, Lacey."

"You do know you're bait, right?" Ethan asks.

Violet clears her throat.

"No, it's fine. I know. I'm just not sure why I'm compelling bait." I play with the edges of my napkin. Mal is still staring vacantly at the harbor. He's not really in the conversation.

"Mal doesn't date. He fucks." She looks around the room with a blush. "Excuse me. He, ahem, and even then, he insists those women fill the spaces that work for his life. He doesn't make room for anyone. But with you…"

Ethan laughs. "Honey, you realize how cutting that was?"

"It was, wasn't it?" Her brow furrows. "Sorry, Mal, I didn't mean it as an insult. You know what you want and demand it. That's more than a lot of people can say."

Mal's nod is still vacant.

"I'm not the best with tact. But you should know… um, we all want Mal to be happy." She looks to Mal. "Really, you deserve it."

"We're just having fun," he says.

Does he still feel like that?

"We were having fun." Violet points to Ethan.

"After two years of a miserable separation." Mal shoots Ethan another meaningful look. It's pure sibling telepathy.

Violet and I don't have a clue. At least not if her expression is any indication.

"And three years of bliss before that." Ethan squeezes Violet's hand. "You know that was all bullshit, honey? I never wanted us to be casual."

"Not even for a minute?"

"I wanted to only want to fuck you." He leans in to press his forehead against hers. "But that was my ego talking. It couldn't take that you'd left. Every other fiber of my being wanted to be around you."

"Ethan," she murmurs.

He leans in for a kiss. A much too passionate for this nice restaurant kiss. But I guess that's what you get with a romantic atmosphere.

"Aw… I'm going to take a picture." That's Piper's bubbly voice.

Sure enough, it's followed by the click of a camera phone. And by Kit's deep chuckle.

Piper steps forward to show off her snapshot—it is a cute picture, what with the setting sun in the background. Piper isn't doing too bad on the cute front herself. Her rose-print midi dress has thin straps and a sweetheart neckline. With her Mary Jane heels, her chunky black purse, and her long blonde hair in a half updo, she's adorable. Somehow, she even makes visible roots look cute.

She leans in to hug me. "It's nice to see you, Lacey. You look pretty."

"Thanks." I'm not sure what I did to deserve this much of her affection. I guess she really does think Mal and I have a future. And, for some reason, she really wants that.

Because he's never with anyone?

Or because there's some reason why he should be with me?

She's a lot younger than Mal is. That must mean something, but I haven't got a clue what that is.

Kit pulls out Piper's chair for her then he takes a seat next to her. He's in all black-collared shirt, slacks, dress shoes. His hair is that same mass of curls and he's still rocking the eyebrow piercing.

She pushes their chairs closer together. Her blue eyes—they're just like Mal's, but a little lighter—take in the room. "Mom and Dad are running late. How unusual."

Mal shoots her a stern look.

She folds her arms, and turns to face me. "Kit told me all about the video. It sounds really fun. And you're organizing that whole thing?"

"Some of it. The producer is dealing with a lot of the practical details," I say.

"Tell me the truth. You came up with that entire concept to get the guys naked," she says.

I laugh. It doesn't do enough to diffuse the tension. "Just Mal, but I figured while I was there…"

"I saw your other video." Her face scrunches with distaste. "Sorry, that's my ew, that's my brother reflex. You look good in it. All sweet and innocent. Just like the kind of girl who would break Mal's heart."

"Does Mal's heart break?" I ask.

"I think so." Her eyes get sympathetic as she takes in her older brother's expression. "But never from a woman." She looks back to me. "Do you need any extra background people? I'm an actress. I know a lot of people."

"No, but… well, we were going to cast the first person we found as the bride." I should really clear this idea with several people, but I don't care. "Do you want to do it?"

"Really?" Her eyes light up. She turns to Kit. "You don't mind?"

"Depends who the groom is," he mumbles.

"Oooh, can Bella do it!" Piper smiles.

"I'll ask." Mal pulls out his cell and taps a text. There's no emotion in his voice. "You do realize you'll never hear the end of it if you kiss Joel's wife."

"It's a stage kiss," Piper says.

"Still." Mal's voice lifts. "Fuck, I don't want to think about the shit he's going to say. I'd put good money on him inviting you to a threesome."

"Over my dead body," Kit says.

"Over Bella's dead body," Violet says. "But I'm guessing he'd just offer to watch you and Bella… which, I don't see that happening. And I don't want to."

"It's acting. You're all perverts." Piper looks to me. "If you need someone. If not, I have plenty of Netflix to watch."

"Baby, you make your plans sound so exciting," Kit teases.

"Netflix is exciting." Piper looks to me. "You must agree, Lacey. All those movies and TV shows at your fingertips—what could be better than that?"

Finally, Mal's eyes light up.

He looks to me with a smile that screams I know exactly what could be better than an infinite supply of entertainment.

My cheeks flush.

Piper makes that ew face.

Violet laughs.

Then all that joy falls from Mal's face. I turn to follow his gaze. A couple in their 50s steps into the restaurant. The woman is wearing a printed maxi dress. The man is in khakis and one of those Tommy Bahama kinds of shirts.

They have the same blue eyes that all the Strongs do.

Those most be Mal's parents.

He gets up to help them to the table.

Slowly, his mom looks over the table. "Violet, nice to see you." She looks to Kit. "And you too, Christopher." Her gaze goes to me. "You must be Malcolm's girlfriend, Lacey." She offers her hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Shirley."

"You too." I shake.

No one corrects her about how I'm not Mal's girlfriend.

Slowly, she goes around the table, hugging each of her kids. Despite the pained expression on her usually bubbly face, Piper hugs back. Ethan too.

Mal hugs his mom then takes his seat.

Then his dad takes his turn welcoming us with handshakes. His name is Cameron.

Cameron pulls out Shirley's chair for her. It's kind of sweet, how the two of them are clearly in love. But then I can't say I'm inclined to like these people. They've obviously caused Mal a lot of pain.

She turns to Mal. "Sweetie, you look tired. You're too young to be so tired."

His eyes turn down, but he says nothing.

"Yes, almost like he spent the last nine years doing all the things parents do." Piper folds her arms. "How was your flight?"

"Long." Shirley's voice is low. Drawn out.

Her eyes are weary the way Mal's are. Slowly, she turns to her daughter. "You look beautiful, Piper. How is school?"

"It's August," she says. "We're not back in session for another month."

"Your transcripts were good," Shirley says.

Piper bites her tongue. "It's fine, I guess. I have to study a lot and practice a lot, but I get by."

"Mal tells me you were in a show," she says.

Piper frowns.

Violet jumps in. "She was great. She always is. You really raised a family of entertainers."

Shirley nods.

Cameron just sits there, staring at her like he's worried she's about to break.

Thankfully, the waiter saves us from the awkward silence. He drops off a round of waters and takes everyone's orders. It goes surprisingly quickly what with none of us having looked at our menus.

I can't even bring myself to tease Mal about ordering the entree of grilled fish and sautéed vegetables. That joy in his expression is gone.

And I think I know why.

I hope I'm wrong.

Mom leans back in her chair with a soft smile. She looks to Violet and Ethan. "Do you have plans for the wedding?"

Ethan's expression screams why, it's not like you're going to show up.

Violet squeezes his hand back. "We found a place, this castle in San Bernardino. We haven't set a date yet. Maybe this fall. Maybe next. Or… I guess it doesn't have to be fall as long as it's sunset and it's cooler. It gets hot in the hills in the summer."

Ethan smiles at her. "And you'll melt under twenty pounds of black satin."

She blushes. "It has nothing to do with that."

"Uh-huh." He leans in to press his forehead against hers again.

They kiss, again.

For a second, all the tension at the table melts. It's like we really are here to celebrate Violet and Ethan's engagement. Even Mal looks happy about it.

Well, he doesn't look miserable.

I lean in to whisper in his ear. "You need a breather?"

He shakes his head.

Mom leans back into her seat. "We have some news too."

Cameron shakes his head. "We should wait, Shirley."

"No. We can't wait." She looks to Piper. To Ethan. To Mal. "I'm not well."

All chatter ceases.

"It's my heart," she says. "We saw a doctor but we weren't in the city. He didn't have good equipment to say how much it's a problem."

"But…" Piper's voice breaks. "You're going to be okay."

"Maybe." Shirley's voice is steady.

"What do you mean maybe?" Ethan asks.

"It might be treatable. But with this onset, at my age." Shirley's voice is even, matter-of-fact. "Most likely, it's terminal."