BREAKING NEWS! Gemma Summers loses, yet again.
Whatever.
It’s been pretty clear since Day 1 of this — my heart fails in my chest at the wordrelationshipso let’s call it aflirtation, that’s much more benign — that there’s only one power player here when it comes to negotiations, and his name is not Gemma. Which is probably why he doesn’t bother following any of my rules.
If you hold all the cards, you can play the game however you want.
Chase glances over at me, skeptical. “Gonna need a translation on that one, sunshine.”
“Therules.” I keep my eyes glued to the beach and force the words out. “You’re not supposed to meet the parents until later. Way later. Like, two weeks before the wedding, over an awkward dinner at a restaurant with giant booths so no one’s elbows accidentally touch or anything.”
He looks at me a little strangely, a grin quirking his lips up at the corners. “And you know thishowexactly? From your vast experience bringing men home to meet the parents?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t like you.”
He chuckles.
“And yeah, so you’re the first guy that’s ever met my mother — clearly, I’m not the queen of relationships. But evenIknow there are rules about how this stuff is supposed to happen.”
“How do you know the rules if you’ve never done this before?” He grins. “Is there a book I should be reading, with a list of these rules? A manual, maybe? Some kind of guide I could reference?”
“No, smartass.” My eyes narrow further. “It’s an unspoken rule.”
“If it’s unspoken, how is it a rule?”
I toss my hands up, exasperated. “It’s just not allowed, okay? It’s frowned upon.”
“By who?”
“Me!”
He shakes his head, grinning.
I sigh. “It’s like… writing shouty emails in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS, or feelingevery single applein the pile while forty other people are waiting to approach the freaking produce, or not picking up the massive pile of doo-doo your Doberman has left steaming on the sidewalk.You just don’t do it.”
“Did you just compare me, meeting your mother, to literal dog shit?”
I ignore his bemused question entirely.
“Oh! And I firmly believe there should be laws against people who talk on speakerphone in public. Like,hellorandom dude with the old-school flip phone, Isodo not need to hear about your plans to ‘get turnt’ this weekend and ‘work the ladies’ at the club with your ‘boys’ — I’m just trying to ride the subway in peace.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a lot of rules?”
“Don’t even get me started on people who don’t recycle.” I huff in outrage. “Just throw your old car batteries in the ocean while you’re at it, earth-haters!”
“Gemma.”
Nostrils flaring, hands planted on my hips, I begin to pace in small circles.
“There’s no book, no guide, but therearerules. Basic, life rules that all humans should follow. And I’m pretty sure, right at the top of the freaking list, next tono socks with sandalsandbrush your teeth before the dentistis the rule about not meeting the parents until absolutely necessary. Definitely until you’ve known the person longer than a week.”
“Gemma.”
“In fact, I’m not entirely sure it’severnecessary. In-laws are one of the main causes of marital discord and divorce. I read that online somewhere! Though, come to think of it, it might’ve been on Wikipedia, and I’m not sure how factual or scientific their statistics are, but—”
“Gemma!”
“What?” I snap, freezing in place as my gaze flies back to him.