“Not quite. I just don’t feel safe leaving it in the hotel overni—uh, while I’m out.”
I can’t stop the smile forming on my lips. He was hoping he’d stay the night as well.
Chapter Sixteen
LENNON
If I thought Ollie’s immediate family was intense, it’s nothing compared to the distant relatives. Their family tree is made up of the most eclectic group of people I’ve ever met.
His parents both have Swedish and other European genes but sound like they’ve lived in Boston their whole lives. Ollie’s aunt on his dad’s side married a Puerto Rican, and so their three boys with their dark hair and olive skin stand out in the crowd of blond Strömbergs. And what the hell is up with them all being boys? Eight cousins, all boys. It’s freaky. At least everyone on that side of the family is slightly shorter than the giants that are the Strömberg brothers. I don’t feel as vertically challenged around them. Though, they are still all taller than me.
Then there are the wives and girlfriends—like the family needs their own WAGs club. There’s about six nieces and nephews between the cousins, they’re under five, and I’m not quite sure where or who they belong to.
I stand in the corner of the backyard watching, just hoping I don’t get mowed over.
Yup. Hiding from the kids. Let’s go with that lie.
“Did you say this was a party for your mom’s mom? Why’s your dad’s sister and her kids here?” I ask Ollie.
“We’re all super close.” He wraps his arm around me.
I stare across the yard at the different couples and then at Ollie who hasn’t even flinched about the whole PDA thing. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“So, everyone here knows? About you?”
Ollie’s eyes track my gaze to his arm around me and back again. “Yeah, my entire family knows. Each time someone introduces a new girlfriend or whatever, it’s kinda not mentioned or talked about, but I trust everyone here. I’m not kidding when I say we’re close. We’re one of those sickeningly big happy families.”
“You sound like a pod person.”
Ollie leans in and in a high-pitched voice sings, “Come join us.” He sounds like that little girl from the freaky old movie Poltergeist. “It’s super fun.”
I shiver. “Creepy.”
“It’s not nice to call your boyfriend creepy.”
“Oh, sorry. You’re super pretty for a creepy guy.”
“Better. Although I don’t know what being pretty will do to my badass rep.”
“Aww, honey, you’re not badass unless you’re an enforcer, and you skate away from fights on the ice.”
A gasp comes from the side door of the house. “Did I hear you say Ollie should become an enforcer?” his mom screeches.
“Oh boy, you’re in trouble now.” Ollie takes a sip of his beer.
“Did you just call me boy?”
Ollie shoots beer out his nose and coughs. “No.” Cough. “I said oh boy. Like uh-oh.” More coughing.
Aww, my spluttering giant. I’ve missed his awkward side.
His mom finally catches up to us. “Ollie cannot become an enforcer. He has way too much talent and is way too pretty to get messed up.”
“There’s that fuckin’ pretty word again. I’m not pretty. I’m wicked badass.”
“Of course, you are, baby.” I pat his cheek.
Even though I’m being condescending, he has this weird smile on his face as if I just told him he’s won the Hottest Man on Earth competition. Which, in all fairness, if it was a thing, he could totally win.
He puts his arm over my shoulder and kind of leans on me, while he moves in and kisses the side of my head.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“If I’m pretty, you’re cute.”
“I have no problem with being cute.”
Ollie’s mom butts in once again. “I think you’re both cute, but stop hiding over here.”
She loops her arm with mine, taking me away from Ollie, while his brother Leo calls out and intercepts him from following us.
Mrs. Strömberg leans in. “I’m going to be honest with you.”
“Uh-oh.”
She smiles. “It’s not bad, hon. I just wanted to say that I didn’t think you and Ollie were right for each other.”
Ouch. My face must give away the hurt—the thing that’s always been in the back of my mind since meeting Ollie. A jock like him wouldn’t go for a nerd like me.
Her hand squeezes my arm. “By the look on your face, that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
No shit.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way, and you need to let me finish, okay?”
Sure, sugarcoating you’re not good enough for my son couldn’t possibly be taken in a bad way.
“That day we met you, I thought the pairing was … odd.” She stops walking in the middle of the backyard with the action still going on around us, and even though no one’s paying attention, I become self-conscious.
I play with the collar of my shirt.
“Oh, geez, you’re an impatient one, aren’t ya? I’m trying to say I was wrong.”