Page 79 of Going Viral for Christmas
G-Ma pauses and inspects my face again. “I’m jealous. If I were thirty years younger and didn’t already have four ex-husbands in the grave, I’d keep you for myself.” She snatches her wine glass up and drains the rest of it. “I’m off for a refill.”
Ava glares at her grandmother’s disappearing back. “I’msosorry.”
“Don’t be,” I grin. “She’s a queen, Ava Bean.”
Ava rolls her eyes. “Better than Bells.”
“Is it?” I dip my head close to her ear. The air between us vibrates. “Because it makes me think of something dirty.”
Ava’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open like she’s caught between outrage and intrigue, and for one glorious second, I think she might fire back, until her mom rounds the corner, smiling.
“Go on upstairs and get settled.” Mandy’s tone is sweet but commanding. “You and Soren are in your old room.”
Ava’s reply stumbles out. “My…what now? No, Fisher and Soren are rooming together.”
Her mom’s grin only grows. “Fisher’s in the guest room.”
Heat streaks across Ava’s face, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. She’d clearly been banking on Fisher as my bunkmate. But her mother—God bless her scheming heart—had other plans.
Ava whirls toward her mom, voice dropping into a hiss. “Mom.No.Absolutely not. You cannot put us in the same room.”
Mandy blinks innocently. “Why not?”
“Because—” Ava flails one hand at me, like I’m Exhibit A in a trial, but says nothing. She can’t. She’s contractually obligated to me now.
“Handsome, polite, smells faintly of cedar and magic?” Mandy offers, completely unhelpful.
“Mom!”
Coughing into my fist, I fight down a laugh. “For the record, I don’t mind bunking with Fisher.”
Ava presses her palms to her temples. “This family is deranged.”
“Correct,” Mandy chirps. “And also correct is that you and Soren will be in your old room. Enjoy.”
Ava’s glare could melt steel. “Come on. The good news is, there are two full beds in there.”
I nod, somewhat disappointed, and follow her to the hallway where our bags are. When she tries to take hers, I swoop in and lift it from her grip.
“Soren,” she warns. I smile.
“Let me do one gentlemanly thing before your family roasts me alive.”
She crosses her arms but lets me take it. We head upstairs. Ava opens the door to our room, which is filled with sunlight and an overwhelming number of throw pillows.
“There’s only one bed,” Ava mutters, noting the queen-sized mattress in horror. “Mom!” She whips back around and shouts down the stairwell. “What happened to the beds?”
“Gone!” Her mother calls back, “It’s modern times! We know you’re not virgins.”
“Mom, we aren’tthattogether.”
Yet… I want to say.
“Well, honey, you’d better start beingthattogether,” Mandy yells at us. “Open those legs, Ava. The man has options!”
I’m literally dead.
Ava stalks back inside and slams the door. “I hate this family.”
