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“Your mom.”
The word no was halfway out my lips before his words registered. My mom? I quickly pulled it back with a frown. “My mom?”
He hadn’t brought up New Year’s Eve at the bonfire, and now he’d shown up at my door, and he hadn’t come to talk about it. I’d fully prepared myself to shut down any mention of it, but when he failed to bring it up for a second time, a weird sense of disappointment rippled through me, and a small part of me was pissed that he didn’t seem to give a fuck.
A part I’d be strapping to a chair and running an intervention on later.
“Yeah. Is she home?”
I gave my head a light shake, my thoughts taking me down a path I didn’t want to travel. “No. Uh, she went with my uncle to get something looked at with her car.”
His eyebrows pulled together a little. “Mind if I come in?”
I hesitated for a second, rolling my lips over each other before stepping back. I closed the door behind him and leaned back against it as he moved past me. My eyes broke rank and locked on the firm globes of Leon’s ass. I licked my lips without even realizing it.
Of course, he’d fucking catch me.
“What about my mom?” I bit out, crossing my arms.
The tiny hint of a smirk playing over the edge of his lips fell off completely, and my brows drew down in almost identical imitation of his.
“I saw her yesterday outside of Beat’s,” he started. “She was walking up and down, like she didn’t know where she was going. When I stopped and asked her,” he paused with a light cough, a deep crease forming between his brows.
And then my blood roared in my ears, cold dread filling me as I realized where he was going with this.
He’d noticed something.
People were noticing.
I’d told no one. Because as soon as other people knew, it became real. And if other people knew, the way they looked at me—at her—would change. She’d get looks filled with pity, sad smiles, and whispered words, and if I had to deal with that, if she had to deal with that, I might lose my fucking mind.
“She didn’t seem to have any idea who I was.” His head came up, bright blue eyes locking onto mine and confirming my suspicions.
I looked away, drawing my arms behind my back, linking my trembling fingers together. “And what? You’re pissed that you’re not as memorable as you thought?”
“Haven’t seen your aunt since I was ten and she definitely remembered me.”
It was the way he said it that had a stray flare of irritation pulsing in my chest, and I spun to open the door. Because that irritation had another name, one that had no place in this conversation.
“Whatever. My mom has a shitty memory. I’m sure the rest of Claremont’s female and gay population could draw your portrait from memory, including my aunt. Satisfied, Pretty Boy?”
“Is everything okay with your mom?”
My body stilled, freezing when Leon drew up close behind me. The light touch of his rough hand on my wrist felt like a clamp.
“She’s fine,” I murmured, searching for the motivation to tug my arm away.
He didn’t reply, but he started drawing light patterns over my skin with the pad of his thumb. My chest lifted as I fought to keep my lids from sliding closed, and memories of his touch came flooding back.
I’d missed it… his touch.
Fuck, how I’d missed it.
Every other touch that wasn’t his paled in comparison. I’d already known they would.
He took another step, chest brushing against my arm, and I swallowed hard.
“Liss! Aunt Bree said will you check and see if my—Oh.”
