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“That place in the city.” I snap my fingers together, thinking.
“Xander, think,” she says, exasperated. “There are a million places in the city.”
“Gregory’s? Does that sound right?”
“Sure.” She waves her hand dismissively. “You let her know, and after you’re done with practice I’ll make reservations and grab some flowers.”
I nod. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.” I try to sound optimistic but my voice falls flat.
I’ve called my mom a few times in the last three days, and she’s only answered once and promptly hung up after only a minute of conversation.
“Call her.” Thea glares. “Now.”
“You’re bossy today,” I mutter, but do as she says because there’s no point in putting it off.
I call her twice and she doesn’t answer either time. My mom’s been mad at me plenty of times over the years but never to this degree. Her coldness is off-putting, to say the least.
Since I can’t get her, I suck it up and call my dad. He answers, but instead of his usual cheery hello I get a gruff, “What?” instead.
I sit up and scratch the back of my head, awkwardness overtaking my body. “Um,” I hesitate, “Thea and I would like to take you and Mom to dinner tonight. To … uh … talk?” I say it like a question, then promptly wince. I’m going about this all wrong and I sound like an idiot.
He sighs on the other end and I can hear the sound of shuffling papers and I imagine him in his office working. “When and where?”
“Eight o’ clock at Gregory’s?”
I then hear a squeak as he presumably leans back in his chair. “We’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He clears his throat. “Your mom loves you, and she’ll forgive you, but don’t forget that she’s allowed to feel hurt. Don’t belittle her feelings.”
“I won’t,” I vow.
“Good. See you then.”
The line clicks off, and I drop my phone on the bed.
Thea pops back through the door. “Did you get her?”
“No, my dad.”
She frowns. “I still feel bad for quitting, but without you there, I didn’t see the point in staying. No offense, but I don’t find architecture all that stimulating.”
I crack a grin and she walks toward me. I place my hands on her waist and then move them down, over her ass, to settle on her legs. “But me, you find stimulating?”
She places her hands around my neck and then climbs onto my lap, grinding her hips into mine. “Oh, yeah,” she sighs breathily.
She bites her bottom lip, drawing it slowly between her teeth, and her eyes flick down to my lips.
We need to leave in a short time, but fuck it.
I close the space between us, wrapping my fingers in the strands of her hair and drawing her mouth to mine.
She lets out the softest little sound that’s half-moan and half-purr.
I flip her onto the bed and cover her body with mine. She’s so small beneath me and I love that my body shields her so easily. I smooth my hands down her sides and then grab the bottom of her shirt, quickly removing it. Her eyes watch me, warm with pleasure, and she licks her lips. I love that she gets turned on so easily—that she truly wants to be with me. It’s something I thought might never happen.
She sits up and I reach for her bra strap, popping the clasp so the black scrap of fabric falls down her arms. My eyes rake her in and my blood heats. I’ve never felt possessive before, and I’m not sure what I feel now can even be described as that, but there’s this primal need to mark her some way as mine.
