Flynn - a kissing booth fan fiction

Sighs

A/N - It's been way too long since I updated this story, but life keeps conspiring to get in the way right now. It's also been way too long since we had any of these *** turn up in a chapter, I feel. Hope you remember what they mean...

Let me just apologize in advance for my parents, okay?" Chloe winces as we get out of the town car that her father sent to collect us.

"Please," I roll my eyes and offer her my arm. "You forget that my parents are part of the country club set back home. Some of my dad's work friends are pretentious assholes."

"I'm sure," Chloe laughs lightly as we start up the stairs to the ballroom where the gala's being held. "But I also know you avoided these kinds of events like the plague, so again, thank you and I'm sorry to put you through this unique kind of torture."

"Stop it, Clo. I'm here for you, not them, okay? We'll be fine. Hey, we might even have fun."

"Don't count on it," she mutters under her breath before putting on the fakest smile I've ever seen on her face, just as a woman I'm guessing is her mother sweeps forward towards us.

"Darling," the older version of Chloe enthuses, leaning in to kiss her on both cheeks. "It's lovely to see you."

Like they didn't just have lunch today... Suppressing my snarky thoughts, I plaster on what I hope is a genuine-looking smile as both women turn to me.

"Mother," Chloe says, her tone softer than I'm used to as she gestures in my direction. "This is my friend, Noah Flynn. Noah, my mother, Grace Winthrop."

Grace offers me her hand and I take it lightly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Winthrop."

"The pleasure is all mine," she smiles warmly, catching me a little off-guard. "Thank you for attending tonight, especially at such short notice."

There's an undertone to that statement, and I feel Chloe stiffen slightly at my side. Yep, that barb was meant for her, not me, but that actually makes me angrier in a way. As if it's Chloe's fault that her boyfriend is a flake. Instead of sympathy and understanding, it seems as if Mrs Winthrop is taking her daughter's relationship problems as a personal affront. It's hard to reconcile the woman standing in front of me with the one from the stories Chloe's told us all about her childhood, travelling the world with her brave adventurer of a mother. What happened to make her so cold toward her only child?

"Anything for Chloe," I smile wider, even though it takes effort. "She's been my lifeline this year at Harvard. Couldn't have survived without her, honestly."

"How kind of you to say," Mrs Winthrop appraises me carefully, before her eyes slide across to Chloe. "Your father's already inside, I'll be in shortly."

With a polite nod of her head, Chloe tugs on my arm, and I let her direct us towards the entrance, our time with Mrs Winthrop clearly over. I let out a slow breath, placing my free hand on top of Chloe's and giving it a light squeeze.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," I smirk.

"Could definitely have been worse," she agrees, eyes scanning the room. "But I need a drink before facing dear old dad."

"Sounds like a plan," I agree, steering us towards a waiter holding a tray full of flutes of champagne.

The rest of the night could've been tedious, but Chloe and I make it as fun as we can, taking turns whispering jokes under our breath during the seemingly never-ending speeches, each trying to make the other laugh. Meeting her dad was relatively painless, and the three course dinner is better than anything I've eaten since Christmas, so, all in all, I think I've done pretty well out of this bet. That is until dessert is cleared away and the band starts to play a song that's a bit more lively than the background music they've been providing thus far. The other guests seated on our table start to filter away, either to the bar or the dancefloor, until we're the last ones left.