Trouble with the Fake Boyfriend (Rock Bottom #3) - Holly Renee Page 0,21

share again just yet.” Brooke laughed.

I don’t know why, but that kind of shocked me.

Brooke and I had never talked about our lives before we met, what our families were like, but I had always assumed that she came from a lot of money like Kennedy.

But maybe I was wrong.

Maybe I didn’t know nearly what I thought I knew about her.

“Do you have any siblings?” My mom sounded genuinely interested in learning about her, and I felt like a complete asshole because I was waiting for the answer too.

“No siblings.” She shook her head and pushed some food around her plate. “It was just me and my mom.”

The way she said it was like it was the worst reality in the world, and maybe for her, it was.

“What was this one like growing up?” She hiked her thumb in my direction, and it was easy to see she was deflecting the conversation off of her and her family.

“He was a bit wild.” My mom laughed as she looked at me. “Football star, heartthrob, several broken bones.”

I wagged my eyebrows at her as my mom listed off my shining qualities, and she laughed before knocking her knee against mine under the table.

“He was also really bad at English.” I swiveled my head in my dad’s direction. “It almost got him kicked off the football team a couple times.”

“You’re supposed to be telling her the positive things, Dad. Not the negative.”

“No. I want to hear the negative.” She scooted her chair closer to the table and simultaneously closer to me.

“Well, he also had the hardest time learning to talk.” My mom looked at me like it was her favorite memory in the world. “He had this little lisp and you could barely understand anything he said.”

“Mom.” I laid my head back in frustration. I didn’t need Brooke knowing all my dirty little secrets or my embarrassing ones.

“It was cute.”

“A lot cuter than that time we caught you trying to sneak your girlfriend in.” My dad nodded, and I wished he would stop right where he was. I hadn’t thought about Katie in years. Hell, I hadn’t seen her in years.

Katie was the first and last girl I let break my heart.

“He got caught?” Brooke was laughing.

“Yes. He got caught.” My mom looked a lot less pleased with this memory. “He isn’t as smooth as he thinks he is.”

“No.” Brooke shook her head with a smile. “He certainly is not.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I was smooth. I was the smoothest damn thing they had ever seen.

“Nothing.” She patted my cheek like I was a child as she fake whispered to my mom. “I can’t mess with his ego too much. He gets all whiny.”

“Don’t I know it.” My mom nodded her head in my dad’s direction.

“I am not whiny.” My dad took my words right out of my mouth.

“Of course you’re not, honey.” She patted his hand before scooping some more food on his plate and winking at Brooke.

I don’t know what it was, but there was something about seeing my mom and Brooke get along so well that did something. I don’t even know how to explain it.

This was Brooke. She wasn’t acting, there was no pretending, except for her feelings for me. She was who she was, and my mom loved her.

It was a blessing and a huge problem.

A huge fucking problem.

I didn’t want to let my mom down more when Brooke and I “broke up” then I would have if I had just shown up alone.

I was so damn screwed.

I needed Brooke to be less likable.

I didn’t need or want my mom to love her.

It would just make everything more difficult.

But it didn’t matter what I wanted, my mom was falling for her before my very eyes, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.

“I still have to get a dress for the wedding if you’d like to go shopping one day.” My mom was looking at Brooke, and I could see all the daughter-in-law fantasies flash through her head.

“I’d love that. I could actually use a new dress too.”

Brooke’s plate was almost empty so I loaded her up with more mashed potatoes and green beans.

“Thanks.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You’re welcome.”

“Brooke, what do you do?”

She looked up at my dad and shifted in her seat. “I manage a salon.”

She said it like it was something she shouldn’t be proud of, like what she did wasn’t important, and I hated that