I quickly glance at Lottie, who looks clueless. Interesting.

“Yes. And even though Page Six likes to report on what girl I have on my arm one night to the other, it’s not true. Don’t believe anything you read in those things.” Thankfully I haven’t been mentioned in a while, because that wouldn’t work out well for my story with Lottie.

“Oh, I never believe any celebrity gossip unless it comes from Hoda Kotb herself.” Maura waves her hand in dismissal.

Lottie finally comes to life and says, “Mom, you always believe what they say in those gossip magazines. You told me the other day that Jennifer Aniston had triplets and sold them to Will Arnett.”

Maura laughs nervously. “It was a joke.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, is this why you’ve been so evasive about moving?” Maura asks Lottie. “Because you’re thinking about moving in with Huxley?”

Oh shit . . .

“What would make you think that?” Lottie asks in annoyance.

“Because when I looked around for apartments near Kelsey, there was nothing available. It seems as if you’ve been avoiding the whole conversation, and I don’t know, finding out you have a boyfriend just makes me think that you might be thinking about moving in with him.” Maura turns toward me. “Don’t get me wrong, we love having Lottie here, but we’ve also been excited about her promotion so she could find her own place, finally.”

Interesting. So, she does need a place to stay; that’s not what she said the other night. And since she didn’t get a promotion, but was fired, not telling her mom makes sense. I think I have Lottie right where I want her.

Maura offers me a sly grin. “Jeff and I really want to walk around the house naked.”

“Mom!” Lottie says, her face turning red.

I lean in and wink. “I totally get what you mean.” Clearing my throat, I say, “I asked her to move in, but I’m waiting on an answer.”

“Really?” Maura asks, excitement beaming from her eyes. “Oh, wow, that’s so exciting. Honey, are you going to say yes?”

We both look at Lottie, whose mouth is full of ice cream. She glances between us, and I know she wants to murder me, because if looks could kill . . .

I’d be six feet under.

She swallows cautiously and then says, “I’m not sure. He’s more attached to me than I am to him.” She shoves more ice cream in her mouth.

“Lottie. How could you say something like that?” Maura asks, horrified. Whispering, she adds, “And right in front of him, too.”

“Ah, she’s only kidding,” I say, taking the heat off Lottie. “She was the first one to say ‘I love you,’ actually.”

Maura’s eyes widen. “Wow, I didn’t . . . I didn’t know.” Maura turns to Lottie. “I’m sad you didn’t think you could trust me with this information.” Oh shit. I don’t need the mom feeling sad.

“It’s my fault,” I say quickly. “I begged her not to tell anyone. I really wanted to keep it on the down-low. She wanted to tell you and Jeff, but I asked her not to. Please don’t be mad at her. If you’re mad at anyone, it should be me.”

That earns me a soft gaze from Lottie, but it doesn’t last very long, not when she turns back to her ice cream and scoops some more into her mouth.

“I appreciate you being honest with me, Huxley.” Jesus, if only she knew. “Well.” Maura rests her hands on the table. “How did you meet?”

“On a walk,” I say, even though that’s not what I told Dave. Jesus, this is already twisted and fucked. At least on a walk is true. “She was lost and I helped her find her way back home, but I knew before she left, I needed her number. Couldn’t stop staring at her. Those green eyes of hers mesmerize me.”

Lottie glances in my direction, a surprised look on her face. Yeah, I pay attention to the small things. I’d remember those eyes even if they just briefly glanced at me.

“How sweet. Lottie, you haven’t said much.”

Because I keep stepping in before she can say anything. Because even though I know she needs me to cover for her, I’m not fully confident she won’t fly off the deep end and blow our cover.

“Just observing Huxley,” she says. “Seeing how he fits in my environment.” She stirs her spoon in her bowl. “Not sure he fits in or not.”

“Please excuse my daughter, she apparently has no decorum. Lottie, this is your boyfriend.”

Maura is a good woman.

“It’s okay, Maura. She tends to bust my balls often—excuse my language.”

“Oh, don’t bother excusing yourself around here, we aren’t proper in any way. And I guess she gets that attitude from me; I tend to throw some shade toward Jeff as well.”

“Makes it that much more fun, especially when at night, she curls into me for a hug and presses those sweet lips on mine. Makes it all worth it, because I know my girl loves me. Truly loves me.”

And the Oscar goes to . . .

Lottie stands from the table, bowl in hand. “I’m done. Huxley, let me show you my room.”

“That’s presumptuous,” I tease while taking a mouthful of ice cream. When she glares at me, I stand from my seat and say, “Maura, excuse me while my girl gains some private time with me. Shall I put my bowl in the sink?”

She waves at me. “No, I got this, you two go ahead.”

“Thank you.” I take Lottie’s hand in mine and allow her to guide me down the hallway to the last room on the left. She opens the door, drags me in, and then shuts the door behind me.

I take in the small but fully decorated room. Posters of rock bands span across every wall. From the Beatles, to ELO, to Boston, everyone is represented, even on the ceiling. Her bed is unmade, there are clothes on the ground, and her dresser is covered in makeup and face products. I feel as though I’ve been transported back two decades to one of my girlfriend’s rooms. Clutter, everything you like plastered on the walls, and even though there isn’t a black light in her room, there is rope lighting outlining her door. This girl is not that much younger than me, but man does it feel like it.

“How old are you, again?” I ask, turning to face her. I’m greeted by a very angry-looking woman: arms crossed, jaw clenched, foot tapping.

Damn, the girl truly can commit murder with her eyes.

“What the actual hell are you doing here?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. I just need to know how old you are first.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, babe, I’m twenty-eight. No need to call your lawyers.” She passes me, her shoulder bumping against mine as she makes her way to her unmade bed and takes a seat. Her sheets are covered in tiny hearts, whereas her comforter is pitch black and velvety. I’m trying to gain an understanding of this girl, but I can’t seem to put my finger on her. She’s all over the place.

Rock posters. Heart sheets.

Surly attitude. Cares about her parents.

Snarls from across the table. Will gobble down whatever is placed in front of her.

“Now tell me what the hell you think you’re doing,” she says.

“Doing you a favor.” I stick my hands in my pants pockets.

“How is lying to my mom doing me a favor? She legit thinks we’re a couple.”

“Which was accomplished by my impeccable acting. You could use some adjustments.”

Her brows narrow. Cool it with the teasing, man, she’s not open to it right now.

“I thought I told you at Chipotle I wasn’t interested.”

“You were interested,” I say. “But you were spooked. Not sure what spooked you, but I saw a shift in you. I knew you weren’t through with this; you just needed some encouragement. That’s what the flowers were, encouragement.”

“Uh-huh. And what would you say today is?”

“Today is a kick in the ass.”

“I don’t need a kick in the ass. You’re the one who needs this more than I do.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, feeling cocky now with knowledge. “Because from what it seems like, your mom is counting down the seconds until you leave this house. She also seems to believe you will be receiving a promotion soon, when, in fact, you’re out of a job. Care to tell me why she thinks that?”