“Fine.” Cora’s eyes narrow. “Just know I’m watching. If Grace gets dessert, I want some too.”
I look down at Clay. “This is all your fault.”
Clay shrugs. “What my girl wants, she gets. You should take notes.”
“Trust me, Kellan takes care of me just fine,” Cora says before I can say anything.
Clay cringes while the guys toss their heads back and laugh, totally catching Cora’s meaning.
I feel my cheeks heat. There’s nothing like your girlfriend making a sex joke at the dinner table.
“Cora, behave,” her mom scolds. “Although I am glad to hear that he’s taking care of you…as long as you all are being safe.”
“Mom!” both James kids cry out.
Shit, this is great.
“This would never happen at our Thanksgiving,” Grace whispers to me.
“Never. I like it,” I say quietly.
“Me too,” she says before looking back at her food.
She’s not wrong, though. While it’s a little weird being away from my parents today and I do miss them, I’m glad I’m here. I like getting to spend the holiday with Cora and everyone else.
She hasn’t told them about her plans yet, though. I know it’s going to happen, and things will be weird and probably a little tense when she does, but if today is anything to go by, it will be fine. It’s clear as day that they love her and will support her any way they can.
Cora’s phone starts ringing in the other room.
“Shit, sorry.” Cora jumps up and runs into the kitchen.
“I really wish she would have let it ring. No one should be calling today.” Her mom frowns.
“Maybe it’s something important. Like you said, no one should be calling,” Clay points out.
“You’re right.” His mom sighs.
The conversation picks back up. Everyone is laughing and having a good time. You would never know that a year ago, almost everyone at this table hated my guts.
“Shit, I forgot the pitcher of water. Anyone need anything?” Clay asks.
“Language,” his mom scolds.
“I’m good, man,” I tell him.
Everyone says they are good, and he leaves the room.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” Clay yells, making everyone tense. “Please tell me you’re joking, Cora.”
“Excuse us,” Grace says.
In unison, Grace and I push back our chairs and run into the kitchen. Seeing Cora cornered against the cabinets with tears running down her face and her phone clenched against her chest has me seeing red.
“Back off, Clay,” I demand as I slip between them.
Clay scoffs. “Did you know? Wait, of course you know. You probably encouraged her.”
“Kellan doesn’t make decisions for me, Clay,” Cora snaps.
