Page 2 of Irresistible

Chloe? Yeah, I remember Chloe—as a loud, crazy kid whining about being excluded from whatever Rob and I were doing. I haven’t seen her since we were in high school, but Rob has periodically mentioned her. Pretty sure she’s a junior or senior in college now.

I run a hand over my chin, feeling light stubble. “So you’re saying I should want to spend two days with your family because your parents aren’t crazy and your sister’s tolerable?”

“It will sure beat eating a sad microwave Thanksgiving dinner alone,” says Rob.

Something pinches in my chest. Shit. Rob is right. I mean, not about eating a microwave dinner on Thanksgiving. But about it being sad if I spend it all alone. As much as I might try to ignore the holiday this year, it’s going to get to me. I just know it will.

“Fine,” I say. “Two nights. Whatever.”

“Awesome,” says Rob. He shoulders his bag, gives me a hearty slap on the shoulder, and starts to head out. “Pick you up at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, and turn back to my computer screen.

I do exactlywhat I said I was going to do that night—leave at six, go to the gym and work out until I’m exhausted, pick up takeout, and spend the rest of the night chilling at home. The next morning, I get up early, shower, and pack a bag for the next two days.

Rob is out in front of my building at nine o’clock sharp. When I head down, weekend bag slung over my shoulder, I see his wife, Denise, getting out of the passenger seat and moving into the back.

“Figured you’d rather sit up front than in the back with the kid,” she says, smiling at me.

“You sure?” I ask. It’s not exactly a short drive. It’s almost a four-hour trek to where Rob and I grew up.

“I’m sure,” says Denise. She smiles at me again. “I’m glad you’re joining us, Austin.”

“Yeah. Me too.” I throw my bag into the back of the car and then climb into the passenger seat.

“Morning,” says Rob.

“Hey, man,” I say. Then I twist around and give little William a grin. “Will! How’s it going?”

“Remember Uncle Austin?” Denise says to her son.

“Un…cle…Aus…tin,” says Will, and lets out an infectious laugh. The three of us adults laugh, too. But it’s not just amusement that I feel at hearing the kid call me that. Unexpectedly, it melts my heart a tad, too.

“Sorry, I should have asked,” says Denise, glancing at me. “You don’t mind if he calls you that, do you, Austin?”

“Nah, it’s cool,” I say.

“Everybody buckled up?” Rob asks.

“Yes, Dad,” I say, throwing a smirk at him.

“All right,” says Rob. “Thanksgiving, here we come.”

Chapter Two

Chloe

Ichop one of the potatoes in half, then cut the pieces into quarters.

“Is this small enough, Mom?” I ask.

My mom looks up from the fresh rosemary she’s chopping. “That’s perfect. Thanks, Chloe.”

My flight got in late last night and I’m happy to be home. I’m so focused on school these days—it’s my senior year of college, I’m a photography major—and I rarely take time like this to just relax and bond with people I love.

Mom and I have been cooking since both of us got up this morning. As much as I enjoy theeatingpart of Thanksgiving, it’s this part of the holiday, the quiet hours of cooking and spending time with my mom, that I really love. I also really love my dad’s tradition of bringing out his acoustic guitar after the meal and playing for all of us. Right now, my dad’s upstairs replacing the strings on his guitar.

I pause from slicing potatoes to glance out the kitchen window.