It’s a date? Could you be any more desperate?
“Oh.” I bark out an awkward laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I hear Jules giggle, and Mason is staring at me like I just grew another head on my shoulders. Maybe I did. Maybe that’s the head that just said the stupid thing. I refuse to look at Ben, and I glance at the clock, hoping it’s an acceptable time to end this dinner party from hell and make a dash for it.
“So, Pepper, when do you start graduate school?” Jules asks, trying to save me from myself, but I just sigh and sink down in my chair.
This lying stuff is for the birds. I can’t do it anymore. I’m not made to deceive. I’m a people-pleaser, and lying definitely doesn’t please people. I hear Ben chuckle, and I glance at him as he raises his eyebrows at me.
“Yes, Pep, when do you start?” he asks, and my eyes widen.
That little … he’s supposed to be my accomplice. Also … did he just call me Pep? Swoon.
“Oh, you know, like, in a week … or so.” I shovel a bite of food in my mouth and chew as I feel Mason’s gaze penetrating me.
“What aren’t you telling us?” he asks, sighing and laying his silverware down before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“Okay.” I take a drink of water and clear my throat, nervously glancing around the table. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell my parents.” I pointedly look at Mason.
He lets out a long groan and wipes a hand down his face. “This sounds like a clusterfuck.”
“Promise me.”
“Aunt Sophie won’t pry it from my cold, dead lips,” Mason says, and Jules shoots him a look that says not to talk about death at the dinner table.
“Pep here is going to culinary school, not graduate school,” Ben says, pointing at me with his fork, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Gotta rip it off like a Band-Aid.” He gives me a wide grin.
“Loose lips sink ships, Benjamin,” I growl at him.
“What a tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive,” he shoots back.
“Who are you, Mother Goose?” I throw my napkin on top of my plate and sink back in my chair.
“Aunt Sophie is going to die,” Mason says, pulling us out of our standoff and back to where everyone is sitting at the table.
“I just don’t want to take over Stratten Enterprises. I don’t want to be the CEO of a multimillion-dollar company. Too much pressure.”
“Why not tell your parents that?” Jules places her hand on top of mine, a concerned look on her face.
“I tried. They wouldn’t listen to me. You know how they are, Mason,” I say with a shrug, glancing at him and hoping for reassurance.
“Yeah, but you still shouldn’t try to hide this from them. It’s only going to end badly.”
“Exactly what I told her,” Ben says with a nod of solidarity toward Mason.
Why are they ganging up on me?
“Look, I get that it’s an awful idea to try and hide something like this from them, but right now, I have peace and quiet over my own decisions. Or I did have peace and quiet before you two got involved in my business.”
“I didn’t get involved. You told me,” Ben says, sitting forward, his brown eyes pinning me to my seat.
The look of concern—or maybe anger—that flashes across his face leaves me speechless.
Why does he care so much?
“Maybe so, but you weren’t supposed to go blabbing it to the first person who asked,” I hiss toward him.
He doesn’t look fazed.
“Don’t blame this on him,” Mason says.
I glare at him.
Since when did this become a witch hunt?
“I know. It’s a mistake. Ben has told me that much. And I guess I’ve always known it, but for some reason, it’s just easier to lie. But I made my bed, and now, I have to lie in it,” I say, not looking at anyone at the table anymore.
“So, how is it, being roommates?” Jules asks, a grin on her face and a devilish gleam in her eye.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“Good,” Ben echoes.
“Ah, this has been a very enlightening conversation,” Jules mutters.
The rest of dinner passes with everyone avoiding the topic of school or living situations, much to my relief. We help clean up, and after I play with Ginny a little, we head home.
The ride back is tense, unspoken words hanging between Ben and me, and I don’t breathe easy until both of our bedroom doors are slammed shut, leaving me wondering what went wrong. Sometimes, food can’t fix everything.
10 Pepper
I wake up, bleary-eyed and with a fuzzy, pounding head, thanks to tossing and turning all night. Ben and I left the situation in a weird spot. I wasn’t really mad about him spilling the beans to Mason and Jules, but I thought there would be some kind of code. Roommate code maybe? Now, I get the joyous experience of traveling with him to pick up Danger from his parents’ house. His parents. I have to meet his parents today.
Why do I feel like throwing up?
We aren’t in a relationship. We aren’t even going on dates. I barely know the guy.
So, why am I so nervous?
My phone vibrates on my nightstand, and I glance over, wincing at the jolt of pain that sears through my head as I turn.
Ugh. First order of business today: Tylenol.
Mom flashes across the screen, and I grimace before swiping, already ready to be done with this conversation.
“Hey, Mom.” I scrunch my pillows up some and prop myself up in bed.
“Pepper? Did I wake you? Why aren’t you up?”
“No, you didn’t wake me. I was up,” I fib a little. I mean, technically, she didn’t wake me.
“Is orientation soon?” she chirps in my ear, always so happy in the mornings.
I get my grumpiness from my dad.
“Yeah, it’s next
