Hate the Player: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy(89)

I know I’ll always have Billie, but she doesn’t need me like she used to. She has Luca, and the two of them are starting a family of their own. And this evening, being here with the Watsons and seeing Andrew’s parents so happy and in love and observing the way both of their boys adore them, it makes me realize more than ever that I want that someday.

My perfect wish locked in my mind, I think, I wish for a family of my own, and proceed to blow out all the candles.

Everyone hoots and hollers for a playful moment, especially Uncle Tim, and it only takes Mary Lou—otherwise known as the hostess with the mostest—all of five minutes before she’s serving up a fresh piece of pie to everyone.

The instant I take a bite and the delicious flavors of strawberries and buttery piecrust and whipped cream hit my taste buds, I moan. “Oh my goodness. Did you make this, Mary Lou?”

“I did.” Her face brightens with a smile. “Andrew told me you weren’t a big fan of birthday cake, but that strawberry pie was your favorite.”

Good God, he remembers everything.

“Well, it’s absolute perfection. Thank you so much.”

“Aw, sweetie, it was my pleasure,” she says and sits down in the deck chair beside her husband with a plate of pie in her hands. “I’m honored that you’re spending your birthday with us today. I’m just sorry you had to be subjected to Ted’s brother.”

“Hey now, Mary Lou!” Tim interjects around a mouthful of pie. “Them’s fighting words!’

“Just shut up and eat your pie, Timothy,” she says, a teasing smile sliding over her lips.

Ted laughs. And surprisingly, Tim listens, but I’m pretty sure that has more to do with the fact that he’s shoveling big bites of pie into his mouth.

Once the pie is finished, the men head inside the house to clean up.

Apparently, it’s a tradition.

Mary Lou cooks. And all of her boys clean up. Even Uncle Tim.

Which just leaves us girls—me, Mary Lou, and Kelly—sitting out on the deck, drinking wine, and watching the sun set over the horizon.

“Thank you so much for today,” I say, and both the girls smile over at me.

“You’re going to need to stop thanking us, Birdie,” Mary Lou responds with a soft smile. “Both Kelly and I were over the moon when Andrew brought the surprise party idea up to us.”

“I think we were more than over the moon, Mom. For one, it was for solely selfish reasons since we’re huge fans of your music.” Kelly smiles over at me. “And two, Andrew never brings any women around. It’s safe to say we’re both getting a little tired of always being outnumbered.”

Her admission makes me too curious not to ask.

“You’ve never met any of the women Andrew has…dated in the past?”

“Nope.” Kelly shakes her head.

“You know,” Mary Lou begins, her voice almost a whisper. “Besides high school dances, I’m pretty sure this is the first time my Andrew has ever brought a girlfriend home to meet us.”

Holy shit… Girlfriend? They think I’m Andrew’s girlfriend?

The word takes me by utter surprise, and my heart starts beating wildly in my chest.

Honestly, I’m not real sure what Andrew and I are. A part of me wants to correct them, but when I try to figure out how to correct them, I realize it’s not that simple.

Technically, we’re not dating. And we’re not just friends.

I mean, just friends certainly have fun together, which Andrew and I do, but they don’t have wild, insane, amazing sex together on a near-nightly basis. And they certainly don’t make a point to cuddle each other to sleep or steal kisses while working or text dirty things when seeing each other isn’t possible.

Yeah, so, I don’t really have a freaking clue what we are, but I know I’m not going to be the one to burst his sweet mom’s bubble and traumatize her with details of her son’s sex life.

So, I do the only thing I can do.

I just smile and go with the flow.

“And don’t worry,” Mary Lou adds. “My Andrew has already told us that you guys are keeping your relationship a secret for now. So, mum’s the word. Even for Tim. He knows we have plenty of room to hide his body in our backyard if need be.”

Holy hell. Tonight, I guess I am Andrew’s girlfriend.

Too bad you can’t be his actual girlfriend, huh?

My heart flips inside my chest and butterflies float around inside my belly.

Oh, what the hell is that about?

Me, Birdie Harris, falling for Hollywood’s biggest player?

That would be absurd…right?

Play the game, Birdie. Don’t get attached to the player, I remind myself.





Andrew



Filming might be coming to an end, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to Birdie.

“Hot damn, everyone!” Howie shouts. “If we’re very lucky and Birdie and Andrew bring their A-game right now, this, right here, is the final shot for Grass Roots!” He flashes a grin toward Birdie and me, who are currently standing on set, ready to dive into Scene 102.

The final scene.

For once while filming a movie, production has managed to schedule the true last scene of the film on the final day of filming.