Read Another Shot At Love Online

Authors: Niecey Roy

Tags: #Another Shot At Love

Another Shot At Love (16 page)

My heartbeat accelerated at the endearment and the contact.

“All these years of coloring your hair,” Mom said with a shake of her head. “I think Matt would agree it’s probably dangerous.”

Matt shrugged innocently. “I don’t know much about hair color, but I suppose it…could be dangerous?”

If he had been my real boyfriend, he’d be getting an earful, which was something Catherine picked up on because she was back to studying Matt, her brows drawn together in speculation.

“We just don’t know what the long term effects might be, even if your hair looks great, just like it always does,” Mom soothed, sensing my agitation. I’d been putting color in my hair since high school; of course it would be a touchy subject.

“Don’t tell her that!” Lexie cried out. She leaned forward to look at me, and Matt scooted his chair back an inch to avoid the crossfire. “You are
not
going to my engagement party with pink hair!”


Sheesh
, relax,” I said. “I told you I’ll color it before the party. I’m not hurting anyone by having pink hair
two months
before the party.”

“Mom!” Lexie’s whine was followed-up with a high-pitched bark from Mitzy. Everyone winced.

Dad stared out the patio doors behind Mom’s back, an expression of longing on his face. He’d worn the same expression throughout my childhood. He wouldn’t be coming to my rescue any time soon; he was looking for his own escape route.

He snapped out of his trance and asked Matt, “You like baseball?”

“Love it,” Matt answered, catching on quickly. “The Cubs play—” he checked his wrist watch, “—in five minutes.”

“Let’s go, boys.” Dad stood with his plate and headed out the door.

Matt gave me a lopsided smile. “Unless you’d rather me stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. It was safer for him out there with the men. I could tell they’d both mellowed on the interrogation front, but the Gorecki women were never mellow. “See you…soon.”

I planned to bolt as soon as I could announce an uncharacteristic early exit. Catherine would add that little nugget to her investigative file, no doubt. Matt gave me a look as if to say “good luck” before he picked up his plate and followed Tony out the door.


Chapter Nine

 

 

When the men were out of earshot, I reached across Matt’s empty chair and poked Lexie in the arm. “Maybe I’ll keep my hair pink. I’m tired of you ragging me about it. It’s my freaking hair. Just because you don’t approve doesn’t mean I need to change who I am to please the Buchanan snobs. It’s just a freakin’ engagement party.”

Lexie gasped and narrowed her eyes. Her voice dropped an octave, but her words were menacing. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, yeah?” I followed it up with a large bite of lasagna, which Lexie took as a slap in her starved-for-carbs face, and gasped.

“Lexie, she’s just teasing you,” Catherine said, taking on her big sister know-it-all tone. “Gen, when are you going to stop acting like a child?”

“When are you going to stop butting into my life?” I fired back. “You can be such a shithead, you know?”

“Not at the dinner table, Imogen Mae,” Mom interjected.

“Sorry, Mom,” I mumbled. I threw back the rest of the wine in my glass in one large swallow. Three sets of eyes bore into me as I set the glass down.

“Classy,” Lexie said. “It’s not a beer. You don’t chug wine. I thought you learned your lesson after the Merlot incident when you took down my shower curtain and threw up in the toilet for an hour.”

“Whatever. You all drive me to drinking.” I shook my leg to stop Mitzy from gnawing on the hem of my jeans.

Mom sighed. “Really, Gen. Ladies don’t drink like that.”

“I don’t butt into your life,” Catherine denied and attacked her own small piece of lasagna.

“Yeah, right.” I sniffed and took my aggression out on the innocent piece of garlic bread, tearing it apart before shoving it into my mouth to chew it aggressively.

“How do I butt into your life?” Cat demanded.

“I really don’t think that’s a question you should have to ask.” Lexie laughed.

“You are
bossy
,” I added.

Catherine stiffened in her chair. “I am not.”

“Oh please, you’re always telling us what to do.” Lexie daintily stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork and pointed it at Catherine. “Always.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”


Eeekkk
, not your loud voice, Cat,” Lexie said with a wince.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” I answered.

“Girls!” Mom slammed her palm down on the table and we all jumped in our seats. Her eyes were a little crazed. She smoothed back her blonde hair, tucking a few stray strands behind her ears. “Everyone, take a deep breath and relax. I think we’re all getting a bit worked up—”

“I’m not pushy or bossy.” Catherine’s eyes had narrowed to dangerous slits of anger, unable to let it go.

“Not pushy? You made Mom cyber-stalk my...Matt. Really?” I leaned into the table and pinned her with an irritated stare.

“Well, if you didn’t have so many issues with finding a boyfriend, I wouldn’t have had to,” Catherine threw back and I gasped.

“You’re not seriously going to eat all that, are you?” Lexie eyed the lasagna on my plate with longing. “We’re trying on dresses next week for the party.”

In the midst of Matt’s arrival and the ensuing craziness, I had added a huge scoop of corn to complement the two large slices of lasagna I’d barely touched. I scrunched up my nose and went tight-lipped. My sisters had finally pushed me over the edge into a lasagna breakdown. Just to be obnoxious I added another slice of garlic bread to my plate.

Things were getting slightly out of hand.

“That’s another thing. I’m not dieting. I happen to love food. I
need
carbs. I love you, Lex, and I get that you are all bridezilla-crazy right now because you have a tiny white dress to fit into, but I can’t cut carbs from now until the wedding. I don’t have that
willpower
, Lex. There’re just some things I can’t do. Not even for you.” I pointed to the lasagna. “Seven months without Mom’s lasagna? No way. I can’t do it.”

Lexie glanced down at my waistline, a thoughtful expression painted on her face. “I guess you look okay. You’re still working out, right?”

My reply was to eat more garlic bread. Unlike both my sisters, I wasn’t athletic and never had been. I’d tried sports, but my footwork was atrocious and I spent a lot of time in junior high tripping over my feet and pissing off my teammates. I was too clumsy even for cross country, a sport without a ball. And, unlike my sisters, I didn’t enjoy working out. What I liked to do was eat dessert. I had to make up for it with an hour of cardio three times a week—four times, if I was feeling particularly ambitious. I preferred doing aerobics in my living room where my falling wouldn’t endanger anyone else’s life.

Lexie turned to look at Catherine. “I’m worried about you, Cat. What if that dress you picked out for the party doesn’t fit anymore? You look bigger than you were last week.”

“You are such a brat,” Catherine spat, probably three seconds from completely losing it. “I’m having a baby. Jesus.”

“Girls!” Mom threw up her hands.

“Lexie,” I said with a frown. “She might be a bossy jerk but you didn’t have to bring up her dress size.”

“Oh, and like you’re any better than she is,” Catherine said. “You’re both ungrateful brats. And I was only trying to help you get a date since you’re clearly incapable of finding a date on your own.”

I gasped. “Mom! Tell her to knock it off!” But Mom’s answer was to stare up at the ceiling, as if asking for divine intervention. I told Catherine, “And I don’t need any help. I found Matt, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Matt,” Catherine said and crossed her arms above her pregnant belly. “Convenient how you suddenly have a boyfriend.”

My voice dropped an octave. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Catherine shrugged and said sweetly, “Oh, nothing.”

“I like Matt. At least if you take him you won’t be taking Brent home from the engagement party.” Lexie added a few small drops of ranch dressing to her salad.

“Cat, seriously, I don’t need your help in the dating arena any more, okay? I get you’re trying to help, but the dates you set me up on were
bad
.” I set my fork down. “This is just like in high school with Tyler Decker.”

Catherine jutted out her chin. “I was trying to get you a date to the prom!”

“He didn’t even know who I was!”

“How was I supposed to know he had no idea who you were?”

“You didn’t because you expected everyone to know me since everyone knew you. I wasn’t Ms. Popular, you know!” Every guy had crushed on Catherine in high school, but she’d been head over heels for Tony. The year she’d tried to set me up with Tyler, she’d been a senior and I, a sophomore. He hadn’t even known my name.

Catherine blinked. “Well—”

“And he had a crush on
you
, Cat. He thought
you
were asking
him
to the prom.” It had been the most mortifying experience of my life—up until recently, anyway.

Lexie grimaced. “That was pretty lousy of you, Cat. You know how embarrassed Gen was? She cried for a week.”

“Now you’re just being a baby,” Catherine said, but there was no heat behind her words. She picked up her fork and speared a cucumber, chewing it aggressively.

“A baby? Really?” I said. “Not to mention that his girlfriend—”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Catherine interrupted.

“—made the rest of my sophomore year a living hell,” I accused. “You kind of suck at matchmaking, Cat!”

Like a replay from a few days ago, Catherine broke into wounded tears, her small frame shaking with the effort, and we all sighed. A beer and a baseball game with the guys, minus all female drama, sounded like heaven, and I didn’t even like baseball.

“We all just need to calm down and enjoy the rest of our dinner.” Mom looked as if throttling us three girls sounded like a better idea, though. Her hand shook as she picked up her wine glass. There was only a small sip remaining. She sucked it up then scooted the chair back from the table. “I better grab another bottle of wine.”

Catherine’s sniffles hit their mark and my shoulders deflated. “Cat, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get the dessert.” She stood and walked to the kitchen.

I went back to eating and for the first time in my life Mom’s lasagna was tasteless. I didn’t even notice Lexie had sat down in Matt’s empty chair.

“So Matt, huh?”

“Yeah…Matt.”

“Why do you think he showed up?” Lexie asked.

“I don’t know. Do you…think it’s weird?”

“I don’t know. He seems nice.” Lexie’s lips turned up into a smile. She whispered, “Are you going to tell me what really happened with him?”

The memory of the kiss was like a hot flash and I sucked in a breath of air. I licked my lips before pursing them together, and shrugged.

“Oh, cut the crap,” Lexie whispered into my ear and I jumped in my seat. She laughed. “
Jeez
, guilty much?”

“It was just a kiss.”

“You’re my twin,” Lexie said, her eyes dancing with laughter. “You can’t lie to me.”

“Okay…” I sighed, savoring the memory and fully conscious of the thrill that shot down my spine. “It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an
amazing
kiss.”

“He must think so too, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.” Lexie pulled her salad plate in front of her. “He’s cute.”

“He is.” There was no denying it. It was hard to think of anything else. “I didn’t think I’d see him again.”

Lexie speared a cucumber. “You told us all you were dating him and it was serious; did you really think Mom and Cat would let it go?”

If I’d been thinking clearly when I made up the story, I would’ve known Mom and Cat wouldn’t have ignored the “serious boyfriend” bombshell, especially when they’d all spent the last four months worrying about my single status. I frowned. “I’m such a moron sometimes.”

“I won’t argue with that.” Lexie laughed and nudged my shoulder with hers. “But look at it this way, you met a really, really good-looking guy, and he must like you or he wouldn’t be here.” Her eyes grew serious and she lowered her voice. “Just go slow; you don’t know him. And I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

Again.

I didn’t plan on it. From now on, I’d guard my heart but it wouldn’t stop me from feeling attracted to Matt. I wasn’t sure how to deal with him, with the entire situation, and a whimper escaped my throat. No amount of stabbing my food made me feel any better, either. I pushed the pasta around before taking another bite. The food coma probably wasn’t going to happen, so I’d have to deal with the crapshoot I’d created, after all.

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