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Constantine doesn’t answer, only continues to snore, deep in sleep after dozing off an hour ago. I bustle around the kitchen, packing the cooled cookies into containers to sort through them for French club. Once I’m done, I gape at the time.
“Wow, it’s late. Almost three.”
Connor hums, sliding his arms around my waist. “The perfect time for mischief.”
“Or sleep.” I tip my head back and pucker my lips. He gives me a quick peck, then comes back for more, deepening the kiss. I mumble against his lips, “Need. Sleep.”
“Need. You,” Connor shoots back, palming my ass. “Come with me. We’ll sleep out in the pool house. I don’t want to go to bed without you.”
It’s tempting. I’d love to sleep with his warm arms locked around me and his lips nestled against my skin. Mom would kill me, though. She knocks every morning if I’m not up first, and then she barges in my room anyway.
“I want to, but we can’t.”
“Come on, baby. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up the same way.” He keeps kissing me until I’m dizzy. “Then we’ll skip school tomorrow. We’ll sleep in, get coffee and donuts, and have an adventure. Run away with me. Sound good?”
I hum, brushing our lips together, entranced by the fantasy of a dreamy date day.
Then the second set of lights flick on and a sharp gasp cuts through my happiness. “What. Is. Going. On. In. Here?”
I fly away from Connor, almost tripping when he’s slow to let me go. Mom stands in the arched entrance to the kitchen in a robe, murder in her eyes.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
She takes me in and I’m painfully aware of how this looks—making out in the kitchen in the middle of the night, a baking bomb left in our wake, and his flour handprints on my ass. This is my worst nightmare. She’s already on my case all the time about what I wear, demanding I dress modestly. Now she discovers me in comfortable but way more revealing clothes than she’d ever approve of me wearing and seconds from climbing my boyfriend like a tree.
Hopefully she can’t tell we’ve had sex, or she’ll blow her lid. I’ve tuned out enough of her lectures about my sacred gift—gag. She never listens when I insist virginity is a bullshit social construct designed by the patriarchy.
I have no regrets about sleeping with Connor. None. It was amazing and he treated me like a queen.
“Thea,” Mom hisses. I know it’s bad when she’s so angry she can’t even raise her voice. “Get to bed, now. And you.” She swings on Connor, pointing at him while she holds her robe closed. “Get out of my house before I call the cops.”
“Second time’s the charm, right?” Connor gives Mom a cocky smirk.
I stare at him with my eyes wide in terror. Do you have a death wish? I ask with my expression. He winks at me. Winks! Across the room, Mom’s nostrils flare. I brace for the incoming rage. Talking back to her never goes well.
“You think I won’t? You’re trespassing. Get. Out.” Mom grabs the landline—the one she refuses to get rid of because ‘it works perfectly fine’—brandishing it at Connor. “They should’ve locked you up before. You’re not just a vicious miscreant, you’re a troubled boy.”
“You flatter me.” Connor is still leaning against the counter, not worried that Mom starts dialing. “Tell Chief Landry hi for me. You know, I talked to him earlier? We’re good friends now.”
A vein in Mom’s throat bulges as her throat contracts with her swallow, her face turning a scary shade of red.
“Yeah, yeah.” Connor pops off the counter, hands up. “I know you have a real penchant for calling the cops.” He lowers his voice to a mutter as he makes a show of gathering his things—things he doesn’t have. “Regular ol’ Karen you are, Mrs. K.”
On his way out the back door, Connor blows me a kiss, sealing my fate as grounded forever.
“I’m sorry,” I spit out before Mom can speak. “I won’t bring him here again.”
I turn to go to bed, but Mom plants herself in front of me. “I told you to stay away from him.”
Frustration at being treated like a perpetual child spears through me. Huffing, I square off with Mom.
“You don’t get to dictate everything in my life. Connor is my boyfriend.” She opens her mouth, but I hold up a finger. “And no, I won’t stop seeing him. My life is mine, Mom.”
“You stupid girl,” she seethes. “Fine. Wait until he breaks you, throws you away. Then you’ll see how rotten boys are.”
Surprisingly, she doesn’t try to ground me.
“Jesus, Mom. Do you even listen to yourself?” Rubbing my forehead, I cast a glance around the kitchen. “I’ll clean up tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”
