“Fine,” Tink answerswaytoo easily. “Talk to us about Ben? Who is this douche?”
“How do you know he’s a douche?”
“Because he’s not Jimmy, and because he didn’t wanna meet us. That’s strike one and two right there.”
“He’s just a guy I met at school. He was a guest speaker in English lit.”
“Guest speaker?” My eyes narrow. “How old is he, Iz?”
She shrugs uncomfortably. “Not that old…”
“Isabelle?”
“He’s thirty-one, okay? But it’s not as bad as it sounds. He doesn’t look that old. And he doesn’t act it…”
“Oh awesome!” I snap. “An immature thirty-one year old. You’re twenty, Iz! What the hell are you thinking?”
“That’s strike three, baby girl. Jesus, he wouldn’t have survived the night if he came here! It’s like you were leading themuch olderlamb into the lion’s den. That’s murder, Iz!”
“He was kind to me, okay? He notices me. Age doesn’t mean a thing if he’s a good person.”
“But he’s not a good person. He ignores you twelve days out of fourteen, and he didn’t wanna meet your family. That screams ‘I’m having an affair with my barely legal student’. Don’t be so naïve.”
“He’s not having an affair! I’m not theotherwoman.”
Tink simply looks at her with a lifted brow. “You’re cute when you’re dumb.”
“Alright.” I intervene when Iz’s always happy eyes turn watery. “Moving on. She’s not the other woman, Ben’s a stand-up guy, but he’s out now, anyway. You broke up with him without our intervention, so he’s done. Let’s go downstairs and pretend that Jimmy isn’t watching every move that you make. Let’s eat pizza and watch the fight. That makes everyone happy.”
“I should go home.” Iz swipes away a pesky tear. “I’m not up for pizza night. I’d rather drown my sorrows in ice-cream and Jamie Fraser.”
I snicker. “Jamie, Jimmy. They’re both James. It’s cute you never noticed that. Come on.” I sit up on the bed and pull her up with me. “We have ice-cream. And we have the better James – you know, because he’s actually real, and he’s crushing on you hard. Let’s go downstairs and let him know he doesn’t have to murder Ben anymore.”
Tink and I drag her to the guest bathroom and wash her face. Slapping on a light dusting of powder and a fresh coat of mascara, we slowly lead her downstairs.
Theoretically, we’ve only been gone about twenty minutes, so I’d hoped that no one would notice our absence.
Wrong. Of course.
Everyone noticed.
Bobby’s eyes stop me in my tracks as soon as we step into view. His chocolate gaze is suspicious and watchful, and I know he’ll be asking me questions as soon as everyone leaves. Jon’s eyes stop on Tink, even though he catches himself instantly and goes back to his love affair with the pizza box. And Jimmy’s own set of chocolate eyes watch Iz the closest of all.
How does no one see that he’s desperately in love with her? How can the guys be so oblivious? Not even Jack sees it, and he’s as new to the family dynamic as I am.
I lead our trio past the silent guys until I stop at the freezer, grab the tub of chocolate brownie ice-cream and three spoons. We move into the living room and squeeze onto a single recliner, maneuvering our legs like warm pretzels intent on fitting.
We’ll make this work, or we’ll die trying.
It takes only a minute before the guys follow us in and take up the remaining chairs in the room. Bobby stops at the back of our single recliner first and drops a kiss on Iz’s head. “Hey, Sissy.” He’s the bravest of the pack. The first to speak up.
Iz opens the tub and scoops ice-cream into her mouth. “Hey, B.”
“Where’s your friend?”
“Not coming.”
Jack’s brows furrow with curiosity. “Why not?”