The last ever-loving thing I ever thought I’d become is a hypocrite.

A big, fat one.

Joe doesn’t even want me to meet his parents. Trevor’s fine with it, but only if they keep thinking I’m his girlfriend. And only his girlfriend. He doesn’t want that pesky little thing called truth to get in the way.

Both of them are my boyfriends. Both.

So then my mama goes and gets engaged – the woman rediscovered her hoohaw! – and I have to head back home to meet my new stepdaddy and attend her wedding.

And she wants me to bring my boyfriend with me.

Um…which one?

This is where the hypocrisy thing comes in, because I’ve never told her what’s really going on with me and my boyfriends.

Funny how making that word plural ends with a hiss.

The easiest thing to do is to tell the truth, right? That’s what I’ve been telling Trevor and Joe for more than a year and a half, and now that the tables are turned on me, what do I do?

Break up with them and run back home.

I never dreamed they’d follow me from Boston back to my trailer park in Ohio.

And claim me for their own.