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“Mom, seriously?”

“Well, Elliott. Can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” I conceded, “but look at me. What the heck could we even do?”

She thought for a moment and her face softened.

“Julia,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yes Shelby?” Still so familiar.

“Come on up girl.”

Jules bounded up the stairs and burst through the door, tossing herself next to me. No propriety, that one. My mom frowned.

“Look at me, both of you.”

We stared and I could tell she wanted to laugh at the both of us but she kept her composure.

“Julia cannot be on your bed, for one.” Jules slipped off the bed and knelt on the floor next to me. “Also, absolutely no unnecessary touching. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” we said in unison.

She closed the door and we heard her mutter something about her being a fool and something about grandchildren. We held back laughter and I almost snorted trying to keep it in.

“Oh my God, Elliott,” Jules said, turning her eyes on me.

“What?”

“You look like, well, crap if I had to be honest.”

“Who said you had to be honest?”

She thought about it for a second before saying, “No one, actually. In that case then, you look like a sexy beast!” She amended.

“I know I do baby.”

She stood and pecked me on the lips.

“Ah, ah, ah miss Jacobs. That wasn’t ‘necessary’.”

“Yeah it was,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.

“I brought cards,” she said and threw a deck of cards on the bed next to me.

She rolled my computer chair over the wood floor and wedged it as close to me as possible. She sat and shuffled like a regular Vegas dealer then split the deck in half for a very grown up game of War.

“So, can I confess something to you?” She eyed me flirtatiously, laying down a card.

“Always.”

“After calming down last night, I started thinking about you on your white horse and everything and I gotta’ say, I found you extraordinarily attractive when you came to my rescue. That’s my hand sweetheart. My jack beats your eight.”

“Sorry,” I said, distracted.

“Yeah, I mean, the taking charge, commanding a room, throwing that punch. Sexy. And your Monty Python reference? Icing on the cake.”

“Well, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.”

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