Page 13 of Let’s Be Real

I waved my hands around menacingly. “I don’t have tiny hands, sir. I can palm a basketball if I put my mind to it.”

My extreme lack of athleticism and hand-eye coordination putting a stop to any attempt to do so went without saying. Adrian had been around for middle school PE. He’d seen me tripping over my own feet with his own two eyes.

He caught one of my hands, enfolding it in his. “Fine, they’re not tiny, but they’re not exactly threatening either. Your fingers are like knitting needles.”

I laughed, tearing my hand from his. “Go jump off a bridge. You’re so mean.”

He grinned back at me. “Knitting needles are useful, Sam. There’s no shame in that.”

I would have flipped him off, but then he’d laugh at my absurdly long middle finger, and I wasn’t giving him any more ammo.

His smile slipped away before I could come up with a response that wouldn’t get me roasted.

“Shit.”

I sat up straight. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

He waved me off. “Calm down, Mother Hen. I’m in no more pain than I was a minute ago.”

“So, you are in pain. You admit it.”

His chin went up. “Never. Besides, I’m not the topic at hand. We’re going to talk about you and the fact that you no longer have a date to Smelly’s wedding.”

I instantly deflated but still took the time to admonish him. “You have to stop calling her Smelly. One of these days, I’m going to slip up and call her that too.”

An eyebrow winged. “I’m not seeing the problem. Dear Kelly deserves to be called worse.”

“She’s my sister. I’d rather keep the peace over gaining momentary satisfaction.” My head fell forward into my palms. “Crap. I wasn’t even thinking of the wedding. Now I’m going to have to go without a buffer. That’s just…”

A nightmare.

My younger sister, Kelly, was getting married next weekend in Silver Springs. I had no doubt she wouldn’t have minded if I missed the festivities, but then there would be questions from the guests, and no one wanted that.

And I…well, I was determined to go.

At least I had been when I knew I’d have Will by my side. My dad would have taken one look and recognized him as the golfing, vest-wearing finance bro he was. A respectable young man with a mainstream job that would have made up for my shortcomings. Or blurred them to the background for the weekend.

Now, it would be just me—the black sheep sex club manager who couldn’t keep a man to save her own life.

“I’ll go with you,” Adrian stated firmly. “I’m not letting you walk in there by yourself.”

“I would take you up on your offer in a heartbeat, but you’re not going to be well enough for a road trip and weekend of wedding activities.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t. Besides, I need a buffer, not a stick of dynamite.”

There was no way Adrian would hold back for an entire weekend around my family. We’d had too many instances of him firing off when things got prickly to believe he’d be able to behave himself for the whole weekend.

“Then you won’t go.” His eyes locked on mine. “You’re not going alone, Sam. They’ll eat you alive.”

“They’re not so bad.”

“They’re worse.” His jaw rippled. “You’re not going.”

“I am.” I folded my arms over my chest, sickness twisting in my gut. I couldn’t exactly say why I was so determined other than they were my family. If I didn’t attend, I might as well cut ties altogether.

Adrian’s voice in my head said, “Hell yes!” to that idea, but I couldn’t do it.