Reagan

Sitting in a corner and rocking back and forth was high on my to-do list.

“You should have told me,” I said for the millionth time. I glared at Brooke as she sat across from me at the diner we picked to have a late lunch in. It was the afternoon after my humiliating performance with Carter’s family.

She shrugged. “It was entertaining.”

“Bitch,” I coughed.

She laughed. “Seriously, you should open your eyes a little wider. They all look alike. Besides, I think Patty enjoyed you being yourself without the knowledge of who he was to Carter. And let’s face it, if you’d have known from the start you would have—”

“Not perved on his son while he was sitting there?”

She grinned. “He didn’t mind. You won them over, Ree. I could tell. They enjoyed the time they spent with you.”

I shook my head. “I’ll never be able to face them again.”

Brooke scoffed. “You’ll be fine.”

“I won’t. If I do have to face them, I’ll probably do something else stupid and they’ll run from me screaming about what an accident I was.”

All my life, I’d spoken before I thought. Most of the time it came back to bite me on the butt. I’d tried to curb the defect in me, but I couldn’t most of the time. I blamed my mom. She was the same. Though, it was what Dad loved about her the most.

“You’re adorable just the way you are,” Brooke said.

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Thanks for thinking that.”

“I’m not the only one, or else Carter would have run after you talked about naked yoga or when you threatened to throw up on your students.” She laughed. “I still can’t believe you said that. But it also proves a point. You’re adored by many. Your students love your class. I’ve been told by many it’s the only class they enjoy attending each week.”

It was only because I was more laid-back than most of the other teachers. When I was in high school and even college, there wasn’t a single teacher who made class fun. I was a firm believer that if students enjoyed their lessons, they learned a lot more.

“I just have good kids.”

She groaned. “You’re down on yourself too much, and it’s starting to bug me, woman. Repeat after me: I am awesome.” She waited. When instead I took a sip of my coffee, she kicked me under the table. “Repeat it.”

“I am awesome,” I mumbled.

Brooke sighed. “It’ll do. One day though, you’ll know it’s the truth.”

“You’re my best friend, you have to say stuff like that.”

She snorted. “It’s because I’m your best friend I believe it or else I wouldn’t be friends with you in the first place.”

Brooke’s phone chimed. She glanced down and then she blushed but didn’t pick it up from the table.

“Who was that?” I asked.

She waved her hand down at her phone before picking up her own coffee. “No one.”

“Brooke?”

“Reagan?”

Our waitress came up and placed my eggs benedict and Brooke’s blueberry pancakes down. While she was distracted ordering another coffee for the both of us, I reached over and grabbed her cell.

I slipped it under the table and pressed it to life.

My eyes widened.

“Dustin said thanks for the other day?” I all but screeched.

Brooke winced and sent an apologetic smile to the waitress. “I just picked her up at the mental hospital. She has outbursts like this.”

The waitress glanced from her to me and then back again. She nodded, as if one look from me had her believing Brooke. I didn’t look crazy… did I? I checked my clothes. No rainbow was to be seen, but I was wearing my I give zero fox tee.

Whatever.

I didn’t care what she thought.

“I-I’ll get those drinks for you.”

“Thanks.” Brooke smiled. Then she turned back to me, scowling. “Give me my phone.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Brooke Baker?” I glared.

“Phone,” she demanded with her hand out.

“What’s going on with you and Dustin, and why haven’t you told me?”

She huffed. “Nothing is going on.”

“Bull.” I waved her phone around. “Thanks for the other day?”

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“Brooke, we tell each other everything.”

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Fine. But I’m embarrassed, which is why I never said anything.”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Can’t be as bad as anything I’ve done.”

She giggled. “Well, no.” After another gulp of her coffee, she started, “Wednesday night Dustin and I ran into each other down the street. We got to chatting about random things, and I asked what he was doing the next night, hoping it would lead to him asking me out.” She cringed. “He said he was in a bind. He had some event he had to attend with a date, but still, even then he wasn’t sure he could go because he had other commitments. I told him I could help out.”

“As in be his date?”

“Well, yes. But obviously, we didn’t confirm things since he was in a rush. So he told me my help would be fantastic and gave me his address.” She picked up her fork and stabbed at her pancakes. “We didn’t exchange numbers, so I wasn’t sure what type of event it was and since it was during the day—”

“That’s why you took a sick day Thursday?”

She nodded. “I chose to wear a simple black dress. I arrived at his house, he ushered me in, and then… in the living room, of his fan-freaking-tastic house, he introduced me to Benjie, his six-year-old son.”

I gasped, my hand flew to my mouth to cover it. “No,” I mumbled behind it.

“Yes.” She nodded, smiling sadly. “The help he needed was to mind Benjie while he went out. His date arrived shortly after and she was stunning. I would have even asked her out. They left and I felt gutted.”

“Oh, honey.”

She shrugged. “Best thing about it was Benjie. He’s a cute and fun little guy. We enjoyed each other’s company. So much so that when they came back full of smiles and touches, I offered Dustin help in the future if he was in a bind with Benjie.”

I winced. “That would have had to hurt.”

“It did, but then it didn’t.” She took a mouthful of her pancakes. I could see the tension in her body and knew she was gutted over the fact Dustin only used her for a babysitter.

“Fuck him,” I stated just as the waitress arrived back.

Brooke laughed. “Another outburst.”

The waitress gave Brooke a sympathetic smile, set the drinks down and took off quickly.

“Seriously, Brooke. Fuck him for not wanting to take you out.”

“Honestly, it’s been a few days since then, and I’m over it. I liked meeting Benjie. So it wasn’t terrible.”

“Good.” I nodded, but I still felt bad for her.

Stupid Dustin.

After eating and talking about school, we made our way out of the diner when I heard my name being called.

Turning, I froze. A smiling Carter ran our way.

“Hide me,” I whispered to Brooke.

She laughed, but I didn’t want her laughing when he arrived or else he could think we were laughing at him, not that I was laughing, but honestly, I didn’t know what I was thinking and I blamed that on my actions. My elbow connected to Brooke’s stomach, and she coughed, clutching her belly.

“Oh no, are you okay?” I asked, just as Carter stopped beside us. “Hi, Carter. Good to see you, but as you can see, I have to get Brooke home. She’s not feeling well.” I started to try and pull her with me, but the trollop planted her feet firmly on the ground and didn’t move.

“I’m good,” Brooke heaved out. “Fine.” She nodded, standing straight. “See, it passed. All better now. How you doing, Carter?” she asked.

His grin widened. “Great. What are you two up to?” He planted his hands on his hips. Dang, he looked good in his jeans and a simple tee. My pulse started to race like it did every time I was around him.

“Nothing.” Wait, nothing didn’t sound good. It left me open to doing something if he suggested something. “Ah, actually I need to grade some papers and then I have dinner with my parents later.” Since I didn’t want it to be an actual lie, I would have to ring my parents later and invite myself over.

“I could go to dinner,” he said.

Did he mean with me?

To my parents’?

No. Hell no. That would be a disaster.

“I’m sure Reagan would love to take you to her parents’ house for dinner. In fact, how about I check with them now.” She pulled her phone out, and I smacked her hand.

“I can do it,” I snapped. Shit. She played me right into that one. Now I said I could do it, I would as I hated going back on anything I said. Facing Carter again, I asked, “But are you sure? I mean, Mom will probably say random embarrassing things and I’ve told you my dad is a huge fan. He’ll probably fawn over you in some way.”

He chuckled. “I think I can handle that.”

Maybe he was the crazy one.

Oh well, he’d soon understand how loco my parents were.

God, I was going to take Carter to dinner at my parents’.

How did I get in that spot?

He’d invited himself.

Why?

Then again, Brooke had been to my parents’ for dinner. Friends hung out with one another.

“Well… as long as you’re sure you can put up with it.”

“I will. Text me later what time and your address. I’ll come pick you up and drive us over there. Also, I wanted to say sorry again about my family not saying—”

My hand came up. “Wait for all the apologizing until after you’ve dined with my family. It’ll probably be me begging for your forgiveness later. But really, it’s fine.”

He smiled.

Bless my heart and his smile.

He winked. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

I nodded. “As long as you’re sure.”

He chuckled. “I get the feeling you don’t want me to come.”

Once again, him and the word come in one sentence near short-circuited my brain.

“Ah, um, no, uh, it’s not that… let’s just say your family is like… a cute little Pomeranian and mine are like a big bulldog that’s in your face all the time, barking questions every second. There could even be slobber involved. I just want to prewarn you.” I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad did drool over Carter a little.

He moved around us. “I’ll be fine. Are you sure you’re okay with me inviting myself?” He smirked.

Was I?

No. Not at all.

But for some weird reason, I was flattered by him wanting to come to dinner, to meet my family and be involved in all the craziness.

He was brave, that was for sure. Though, maybe I just didn’t prepare him enough for how strange my family was. I guess he’d find out in a few hours.

“Yes?” I shook my head, then nodded. “Um, yes. I’m sure.”

“Great.” He winked again, taking a few steps away. “I have to go, but one last thing. Don’t worry about the articles in the newspapers. Reporters like to talk out of their asses.” He turned and started moving off.

“Articles? Newspaper? What reporters?” I asked.

“See you later,” he called over his shoulder.

Meeting Brooke’s amused gaze, I said, “What did he mean about the articles in the papers?”

“I’m not sure, but I want to find out.”

I wasn’t sure if I did.