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I nod.
"Great?"
"Amazing."
"Damn, Dean gives amazing... finger, I guess?"
"I would know?"
"Apparently." She motions to the stove.
I turn it on then grab a pan and the oil.
"Wow. You and Dean. I can't believe it."
"Me either." There. The pan is hot enough. I add the oil and tilt the pan so it coats the surface.
"So are you two going to—" She clicks her tongue twice.
"I think so."
Emma squeals and throws her arms around me. "My little girl's all grown up."
"Stop it, Mom, you're embarrassing me."
She giggles. "Now, listen, honey." She takes on a perfect Mom voice. "I don't care what he tells you about pulling out or how clean he is. Unless you've seen a test result, you make sure he wraps it up. And since he's a manwhore, you make sure he wraps it up either way. No glove, no love."
"God, Mom! You think I'm a kid or something?"
"You know I only remind you because I love you."
"I know."
Emma laughs as she squeezes me again. "I think you did. I'm seeing you in a new light. A Kaylee gets hers light."
"Good?"
"Great. I'm proud. You're blossoming."
"A slut in training?"
"No. A woman who knows what she wants."
My glance shifts upstairs, toward Brendon's room. "True."
"I know I've told you a million times, but don't let anyone tell you what you want is wrong. Not me. Not Mr. Brooding Bad Boy. Not your teachers. And not Dean. If you're into freaky shit—"
"Like what?"
"I dunn
o. Having your toes sucked. Dressing like a baby. There are tons of fetishes. And it's always the quiet ones. Like Brendon. He's into whips and chains and all that stuff. I've heard the guys talking about it a million times."
"Oh?" God, my cheeks are burning.
"Don't tell me I scared you. I mean, you're getting hand jobs in—" She gasps. "Did this happen at karaoke."
"Maybe."
