Page 53 of Playing the Backbeat

Dee’s face and posture soften, and her voice warms. “Pretty much everyone. But don’t worry, they know you’re my roommate. You won’t get the same grilling a date would.”

I attempt to laugh it off, ignoring the rock sinking to the pit of my stomach at her comment. Something too close to disappointment threatens to sour my mood.

“Thanks for sparing me the third degree.”

As it would turn out, my thanks were for nothing, because while Dee may havethoughtthe message got through to her family, her Nana has other ideas. And they certainly don’t involve me and Dee beingroommates.

Thirty minutes later, the birthday queen herself eyes me up and down. “So, this is the boyfriend,” Nana says, taking my hand in both of hers in the living room of Dee’s parents’ home.

“No, Nana. This is Dylan, remember? Myroommate,” Dee clarifies, enunciating every word carefully.

Nana gives a conspiratorial glance at Emi, who grins at her in return.

“Emi.” Dee raises an eyebrow at her niece. “What exactly did you tell Great Nana?”

Emi smiles proudly at Dee, stating confidently, “I told her that your boyfriend was teaching me how to be a mother-truckingrockstar.” Her head bobs and her arms flail about on her imaginary drum set as she drags out the last word.

It’s an impressive performance; I’ll give her that.

Even more impressive is how Dee keeps her cool around her niece when I know if anyone else had undercut her like this, she’d chop their head off viscerally. Figuratively, but still. It’d be a minute before anyone recovered from that kind of verbal ass-kicking.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dee says gently, but with conviction.

“Oh, sorry.” Emi’s voice shifts to a whisper-shout. “Are we pretending that he’s not your boyfriend?”

Dee closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling a deep breath. “No, Ems. We’re not pretending. Dylan and I arejust friends.”

“Ah.” Emi winks at her. “Got it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dee murmurs softly, too quiet for Emi to hear. She takes a step closer to me. “Sorry about this.”

I bite my lips to keep my amusement from showing. “Oh, it’s no problem.”

“No.” She turns to me, and I watch as Emi kisses Nana on her cheek, gives her a high five, then skips away to join her mom and dad at the dining room table, which is covered with food. “You don’t understand,” Dee says. “Emineverkeeps a secret. It’s impossible. She’d save up every last penny in her piggy bank to putDeanna Perry has a boyfriendon a billboard if she thought it was a secret. This is, in fact, worse than her thinking it was common knowledge.”

“Should we stage a dramatic fight and storm out?” I tease.

“Tempting.” She fights her own smile. “But no.”

“So, you’re saying we should lean into it,” I challenge.

She slaps my chest with the back of her hand. “Oh please.” She doesn’t think I’m serious until I capture her hand in mine, bringing it back to rest on my chest. I thread my fingers through hers and bring her hand to my mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“I can be convincing,” I whisper.

She blushes but doesn’t pull away. “You’d be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend at my grandmother’s birthday party? Feels like we’d end up in some circle of hell for that kind of deceit.”

I shrug. “Think they have good food there?”

She laughs, loud and rich. “Not as good as here.” She keeps her hand intertwined with mine and tugs, leading me toward the food. “Come on, Romeo.” She lets my hand drop, and I miss the contact instantly.

Fuck. The thought stops me in my tracks.

“Might want to fix your face if you don’t want her to catch on,” Nana says. I glance down at her, still sitting comfortably in her chair a few feet away. “Your secret is safe with me.” She winks.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I drag my hand over the back of my neck. “I’m not sure where Emi got the idea. Dee and I aren’t really dating.”

“I’m not talking aboutthatsecret, kiddo.” She looks at me knowingly. I squirm under her assessing stare.