“Yup.” Brandon shakes his head, kicking his feet up on the coffee table as if settling in.
“Since when is Charlotte your fucking sister?” Damon asks.
“Stepsister,” Jace corrects.
“Thank you”?I point at Jace?“but she’s not my fucking stepsister,yet. She will be, though.”
Damon glances between us. “I’m not following.”
“Chris went to visit his mother yesterday for dinner with her new boyfriend,” Jace says with a wave of the hand. “As it turns out, her new boyfriend is Charlotte’s father. And not only that, but they dropped the bomb that they’re getting married.”
“No shit.” Damon scrubs a hand over the dark scruff on his jaw. “How did you not know?”
“Yeah, explain how you just now found out your mother’s new man is Charlotte’s father,” Brandon says, snatching the bag of chips off the coffee table.
I shake my head. “There was a nasty divorce, and I guess Charlotte and her mother changed back to her maiden name. I don’t know the whole story, but the whole stepsister part isn’t even the real problem,” I say, palming the football.
“There’s more?” Brandon asks, his eyes bulging.
“Shit. What the hell’s the real problem, then?” Damon asks.
“Let’s just say she’s less than thrilled at the prospect of her father remarrying and her claws came out.”
“Charlotte has claws?” Damon says dryly. “I can’t imagine.”
“Now my mother’s upset and fretting because she wanted us to be in the wedding and Charlotte basically told her father to go to hell, which means it’s on me to make her see the light.”
Damon purses his lips. “So, you have to melt the ice queen’s heart?”
“Exactly,” I say, snatching the beer out of his hands and taking a sip.
“Now, that’s a challenge,” Brandon says, his tone serious. “But are you sure getting involved is a good idea? I mean, Charlotte’s not exactly your number one fan. Maybe you should leave well enough alone; let your folks work out their own problems.”
“That’s what I said.” Jace tips a chin toward me. “Time to bury your head in the sand.”
I mock gasp. “We’re talking about my future stepsister here. And my future wife.” I wiggle my brows.
“You’re fucked up.” Damon snatches his beer back. “I can’t have your filthy lips on my can.”
“That sounded oddly sexual,” Jace muses.
“Fuck,” I say at the same time Damon recoils.
“This shit’s making me uncomfortable,” Brandon says, rising from his spot beside Jace to rummage in the fridge.
“All I’m saying is that a little greasing of the wheels won’t hurt. Their wedding is in five months, which means I only have so much time to grow the Grinch’s heart. Besides, it’s perfect, really.”
Jace belches, then asks, “And how is this perfect?”
“I’m with Jace,” Brandon says, peering out from behind the fridge door. “I see disaster written all over this.”
“Because her best friend is supposedly madly in love with you.” I motion to Jace. “Which means you can talk to Brynn and ask her to help her see reason.”
Jace raises his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t drag me into this shit. You’re friends with Brynn, too. You ask her.”
A devilish grin tips the corners of my mouth. “You want me to spend more time with Brynn? Did you hear that, boys?”
“You know what? Never mind,” he says, pointing at me with his beer. “Stay away from my girlfriend. Brynn is off-limits.”