I let out a laugh, relieved he’s broken the tension. “Yes. The game was fun, but it felt like so much pressure being in that box. And then my family descended on us. I’m really sorry.”

He smiles and starts the car. “It’s okay. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know you’d rather have gone on this date with Wes.”

My mouth falls open. “What do you — Wes and I are just…friends.”

So much for being discreet.

“I could just tell there’s something weird going on with you two. You seemed really interested in what he was doing, and it seemed like he was just as interested in you.”

“I’m sorry. I should have been a better date.”

He laughs. “It’s okay. Really. Jake explained what was going on with you this week. Let’s just say, I’m glad my family is small.”

We make easy conversation the rest of the ride home until we pull onto Nonna’s street. Charlie has been tailing us the whole way back; I caught glimpses of his truck behind us every time we made a turn, and now I see him gesturing furiously toward the house in the side mirror. A glance at the clock shows I’ve got four minutes to get inside or he loses.

Wyatt parks the car in front of Nonna’s, but I stop him before he cuts the engine. He seems surprised but recovers quickly.

“Did Jake also tell you about the betting?” I ask.

“Um, no, he didn’t mention that part.”

I quickly catch him up. He looks like he has no words for the madness I’ve just dropped on him.

“We’re right in the middle of Charlie’s time block. Want to make him sweat?”

He laughs. “Absolutely.”

We finally reach for the door handles and get out of his car.

Charlie is pacing the front yard. “You’re cutting it close, Soph,” he stage-whispers.

Wyatt and I stroll at a leisurely pace up the front walk. Before we’re even on the porch, the door swings open, and Uncle Sal and Graham stare at us.

“Do you have to be inside the house for them to call the winner?” Wyatt whispers.

I nod. “Another minute or so and my uncle Sal wins today’s pot.”

Wyatt links his arm with mine. “Charlie looks like he’s about to crack. Let’s walk up the stairs really slow.”

We cross the threshold just before Charlie’s slot ends, and Charlie lets out a loud whoop from the front yard. Uncle Sal throws his hands up in the air and heads back to the kitchen.

The other members of my family finally have the decency to let me say good-bye to my date in private. They move off to different parts of the house, grumbling about the betting sheet.

Wyatt leans in and gives me a quick, friendly hug. “Good luck with Wes.”

I laugh and say, “We’re just friends. Really.”

He gives me a look, and I blush. Then, with a final wave, he heads out.

He’s barely out of the door when I hear Uncle Bruce yell from the kitchen, “Soph, how do you feel about s’mores?”

I walk toward the kitchen and see a crowd gathered around the board. Aunt Maggie Mae is setting up tomorrow’s date; I’ve already decided there is a high probability I will use the “get out of date free” card.

“Why?” I ask. I can’t see past my uncles to read the board. But finally they step aside.

And on the table next to the board is a small basket with chocolate bars, graham crackers, and those big, fluffy marshmallows.