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She smiles. “You look beautiful.”
“Really? Because I feel like one of those makeup dolls I had as a child.”
I let Mom pull my hair up into a braided ponytail and put more makeup on me than I’ve worn since my high school graduation, although that’s not really saying a lot. I never had the time to put much effort into my appearance when I was playing hockey, but even if I did find the time to try, it would have been for nothing once I began to sweat at practice. I’m a complete novice when it comes to knowing how to use half of the stuff on my face right now.
My legs are clad in a pair of jean shorts with a rip in the front left pocket, and an oversized, cropped tee hangs off my shoulders. Mom tried to force me into a sundress she found in the back of my closet, but I was quick to shut that down.
If I was going to let her paint my face, then I was going to choose my outfit.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. You still look great regardless,” she states.
I smile and reach forward to give her a hug. “Thank you.”
She returns the hug eagerly, and I soak up the affection for a few seconds longer than necessary. My stomach is still a mess of nerves when we break apart, and I wipe the beads of sweat off the back of my neck.
“You look nervous, my darling.”
I choke on a laugh. “Really? What gave me away?”
I’ve been nervous since Adam asked me to come to this party. It’s been a week of awkward hellos and high-strung anticipation. Not to mention the sexual tension that’s grown to the point it’s impossible to ignore whenever we’re alone.
We’ve had three therapy sessions since Monday afternoon, and each one gets worse. I’ve started contemplating bringing extra underwear in my gym bag just to change into afterward because of the effect he’s started to have on me. Even the slightest brush of his fingers is enough to send me into a lustful haze.
Whatever has grown between us has to be affecting him, too, because ever since Tuesday’s session, he has made extra sure not to touch me at all. Instead, I’ve been repeating the same exercises on my own each day.
It’s obvious we need to figure out what’s going on with us before it starts to hurt my progress, but the thought of talking about this with him is enough to send me into a panic.
Adam isn’t like the other guys I’ve been with. Being with him would be complicated. And complicated scares me. Especially with where my life is at the moment. Yet regardless of all of that, I can’t get him out of my head.
I’m screwed.
“Do you want a shot of tequila before you go? Maybe you need a bit of warmth in your belly to calm the nerves,” Mom suggests.
“Thanks, Mom. But I’m driving.”
She clucks her tongue. “Why isn’t Leo coming to pick you up? This is a date, is it not?”
“I’m going out with Adam today, Mom. And I told you this morning that he had to pick up his son from a band practice. I offered to meet him at the dock.”
When realization doesn’t dawn on her, she frowns deeply. It pulls at the lines in her skin.
“Right, of course. I’m sure you did, sweetheart,” she whispers.
I place a hand on her shoulder and kiss her forehead. “Would you like me to help you get settled before I leave?”
“Yes, I think that would be great.”
I nod and steer her in the direction of her yellow armchair in the sitting room. She has a view of her side garden from the window across from the chair, and I’ve caught her sitting there watching the butterflies a few times this week.
Once I have her situated in her chair, I place an eating tray beside her and head to the kitchen to grab her a glass of lemonade. A few moments later, I’m turning the television on and locking the back door.
“My phone number is on the fridge. If you need anything, and I mean anything, Mom, please call. I can always send over Mrs. McConnell from next door if I can’t get back here soon enough.”
She swipes a hand in the air and grabs the TV remote from the side table. “You worry too much. I’m not eighty and incapable of taking care of myself. Go have fun with Leo, and I’ll see you when you get back.”
I close my eyes and hold back the onslaught of emotions that flares to life when she says Leo’s name again.
“I will,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll lock the door on my way out. I love you.”
