Page 25 of I Think They Love You

10 minutes away!

“Thing is”—Braylon rubs the back of his neck in that nervous way Denz remembers—“I’m doing quite well at my job. It’s a nonprofit. I love it there. But it’d help if we could get more support from… prominent figures.”

“Uh-huh.”

It’s not that Denz is ignoring Braylon’s rambling. He’s multitasking. Studying every new car that pulls up curbside, anticipating his parents’ arrival.

“Sorry, are you listening?” Braylon asks. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Well,askthen.”

“That’s what I was doing.”

“No,” corrects Denz, finally making eye contact, “you were giving me the Wikipedia version. Just say it.”

Nostrils flaring, Braylon half snarls, “Your family’s company has done loads of events with the mayor. I need help reaching her. For a one-on-one chat. Our organization would benefit immensely from her public support.”

A new text from Leena:We’re on the street, but Friday night traffic!

Despite the cold, Denz’s face is on fire. Still nothing from Jamie. Braylon’s talking again, but all Denz can hear is his mom’s lecture after she discovers heliedabout having a boyfriend and the whoosh of a new email from his dad ending Denz’s CEO chances before he’s even back in the car.

“Denz?” Braylon says.

Down the street, a sleek black SUV nudges its way closer. Denz’s skin prickles. It’s his parents.

“Just email the company receptionist,” he says dismissively. “She’ll connect you—”

“I’d rather it be you.”

Denz falters. “Me?”

“Who makes the introduction with the mayor,” Braylon says. “You know me best, so.”

Denz has no time to tell Braylon how wrong he is. Hedoesn’tknow him anymore. The SUV is one traffic light away. He’s still without a solution to the whole missing-boyfriend clusterfuck he’s created. No one except for—

His head snaps back to Braylon.No,he can’t. There has to be another option, like running headfirst into traffic.

The SUV pulls up to the curb.

“Fine.” Denz grabs Braylon by the arms—When did his biceps get so thick?—maneuvering him until they’re standing side by side. While the driver opens the back door for Leena, Denz whispers, flustered, “I’ll introduce you to the mayor. Whatever. Right now, I need you to smile and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Pretend to be yourwhat?”

“Have dinner with my parents and me,” Denz says through a tight grin. His mom steps onto the pavement in a chic red Salvatore Ferragamo coat, Kenneth following in the same suit he wore to the office. “Act like we’re a happy couple.”

“You’re mad if you think I—”

“Please.”

He flashes wide, desperate eyes. Something in Braylon’s stubborn resolve fades. He forces out a painfully big smile.

“Also,” Denz adds quietly as his parents give the driver final instructions, “they obviously hate you for… you know. So, um, make a good impression.”

“Are you fu—”

“Mom!” Denz allows himself to be yanked into a lung-rupturing hug. “Missed you too.”

“Is that why you ignored my calls and texts?”

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