Page 165 of The Friend Situation

Are you staying here?

Weston

Yes.

Brody

I’ll put your suitcases on the porch. See you tomorrow.

Weston

Tomorrow.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, Brody is putting our suitcases on the porch.”

“Great,” she tells me, leading me back into the living room. She does proper introductions. “My mom. My brothers, who you just met. My Mawmaw. And this is my cousin Lucas.”

“Her favorite cousin,” he chimes in, standing to greet me with a friendly smile and a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Weston. Welcome to the family.”

“Thanks,” I tell him, happy for the instant approval.

We sit next to her grandmother on the couch with Carlee in the middle. Before anyone can ask us any questions, a pretty blonde rushes into the room, breathless.

“Sorry, I got caught up,” she says, her voice bright. Her green eyes lock on to mine, brows arching in surprise. “Uh, hi. I’m Abigail, but you can call me Abbi. I’m Carlee’s older sister,” she introduces.

Her gaze lingers on me with a boldness that almost feels like an invitation. I don’t like it.

“Weston Calloway.” I stand, giving her a smile and a handshake, but also reading her like a book.

“Oh, and you’re tall too,” she says, really turning on the Southern belle persona. “Pleasure is very much mine.”

When I sit again, Carlee interlocks her fingers with mine. I smile at her, but I can see her anger flaring behind her gaze. As if her sister would ever have a chance with me. I know exactly whatkind of woman she is after being married to the queen of them for three years.

I rub my thumb across Carlee’s, finding it cute she’s so worried when I only have eyes for her. No one in the world fucking matters. Since we met, it’s only been her, and it will only ever be her. I think she’s the only person in the room who doesn’t see it.

26

CARLEE

Imeet Weston’s eyes, noticing how my sister is drooling overmyfiancé.

“Would you like to sit?” I ask her, standing to offer my seat next to Weston as I settle onto his lap.

Mawmaw immediately senses the tension in the room.

I’ve never been able to understand Abbi; she has always tried to get under my skin. It’s impossible for her to be genuinely happy for me, and even now, she seems intent on awkwardly flirting with the man I’m going to marry.

Fake marry.

She has always been competitive with me and has tried to one-up me since we were kids.

“I heard you were divorced,” she remarks as Weston wraps his arms around me.

He laughs like it’s no big deal. Keeping the energy high as she tries to bring it down.

“Actually, I heard the same about you,” he responds cheerfully. “But I think you’ve got me beat on the number. Twice, right?” He sounds way too enthusiasticabout this.

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