Page 218 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“Go forth and be bi,” Dad corrected himself.

“Not too bi, though,” June teased. “Wouldn’t want to traumatize any more of our cousins.”

“It was one time, and one cousin.” I rolled my eyes. “And I shouldn’t have told you.”

“But I’m soooo glad you did. You know Mama loves her drama.” She blew me a kiss, and I stormed off, eager to find George—especially now that theresulting guilt felt far, far away.

And yet our timer kept tick, tick, ticking.

George was, as always, with his family. This time, Joe. Joe, who was staring morosely down at his white button up—that was now red, seeing as he’d apparently spilled wine on it. George was dabbing at it with a paper napkin and making fussy, grumpy sounds.

“It’s not going to come out.”

I approached slowly, catching Joe’s attention and pressing a finger to my lips so he wouldn’t react. His eyes widened, lighter blue than George’s. A little smile curled across his lips—a smile that would have betrayed my presence if George had not been mid-mother-henning.

“I swear to god,” he griped, “you need a bib?—”

Leaning in close, I held my breath so as not to alert him to my presence at his back. He didn’t notice. Joe’s eyes danced.

Three…two…one?—

“Boo.” When I pinched George’s sides, he squawked, arms flapping. He whipped his head to glare at me, spooked.

“You scared thefuckoutta me,” he gasped, the napkin he’d been holding fluttering to the ground.

“You helping Joe?” I murmured, arms sliding around his waist and pulling him back against my chest where he belonged. Pressing a kiss to that long, mole-speckled neck, I melted—finally feeling as though I could actually settle.

Recharging.

“Helping would be a stretch,” George sighed. “I’ve made him a smidge less wet. Everything else is a lost cause.”

Joe frowned. “Won’t kill me.”

“Wasn’t that suit a rental?” George snarked.

“Oh.” Joe’s brow furrowed. “Might kill me.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I promised, lighter on my feet than I’d been since I’d parted with George this morning.

“Really?” Joe perked up, focusing his puppy eyes on me. “You’d do that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks.” Joe offered me a fist bump of gratitude—before he wandered off to presumably congratulate Roderick and June.

“Why aren’t you with your family?” George didn’t turn around to face me, still looking at the dessert table, though his pink ears betrayed him as always.

“I was banished.” I gave him another squeeze before pulling back so I could do the turning myself. He was pliant in my grip, allowing me to maneuver him until we were chest to chest with no complaints.

“Banished?” George arched a judgy brow, though he was staring at my collar, and not me. And that simply wouldn’t do. I grabbed his chin, squeezing and tipping his head up so he’d be forced to meet my gaze.

“Banished,” I confirmed. “Apparently June is sick of me.”

George snorted. “Believable.”

He didn’t mean that.

We both knew he didn’t mean that.

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