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Shit.
“Slow your roll, Cowboy. We’re not doing this here.”
“Come on,” he groans. “I bet I could make you come before anyone even realizes we’re gone. It’ll be the perfect appetizer to whatever the fuck you’re trying to make in here.”
“First off, my spaghetti and meatballs are going to be amazing. And second, I’m not doubting that you can get me off that quickly. In fact, we both know damn well how fast you can make me come, but it’s not happening in my mother’s pantry,” I tell him. “And while we’re on the topic of inappropriate things that Izaac Banks likes to do, can you at least attempt to not make it so obvious?”
“That’s all part of the fun, Birdy. Doesn’t it get you hot knowing we could be sprung at any moment?” he questions. “Besides, Austin’s too preoccupied sexting Becs to even take notice of what we’re doing.”
My jaw drops. “He’s doing what?”
The pantry door swings open, and my mother stands before us, her knowing gaze locked on the way his hands grip my waist and how our bodies seem fused together.
My eyes widen in horror as silence stretches between the three of us, and when her gaze lifts to mine, the silence begins to cripple me. “Mom, I—”
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” she says, a wicked grin stretching across her face.
Izaac’s hands fall from my waist, but they don’t go far as his fingers trail down my arm, brushing past my wrist before gripping my hand. “Angie, I can explain,” Izaac starts, ready for the fallout.
“No need to explain, love. I’ve hoped for this for a long time.”
“Really?” I breathe.
A softness flutters through her eyes as she looks at me fondly. “Of course, honey. I’ve always known just how much he meant to you, and for a while, I worried it might never happen, so seeing that something is finally beginning to blossom between the two of you warms my heart like you’ll never know. I could never have asked for a better match for my little girl. However,” she says, her gaze darkening as it flickers toward Izaac. “This ismypantry and was not intended for your unsanitary fondling. If you wish to do unsavory things to my daughter, perhaps do it in your own pantry.”
Oh shit.
Izaac clears his throat, and I laugh, never having seen him so awkward in the million years that I’ve known him. “I, uhhh . . . I’ll just see myself out.”
“See that you do,” Mom says.
Izaac cringes and takes a step to move past Mom in the doorway when she stops him with a hand on his wide chest. His gaze locks onto hers and the tightness in her eyes tells me exactly what’s about to come out of her mouth. “He’s going to kill you.”
Izaac nods. “I know.”
“Don’t keep him in the dark for long,” she warns. “The longer you wait, the harder it will be for him to move past it.”
“Any advice for how I’m supposed to break the news?”
Mom scoffs and indicates toward her beloved pantry. “Not like this.”
Izaac nods again, quickly turning into a bobblehead. “Noted.”
And with that, he walks away, leaving me to deal with my mother, only instead of getting scolded for getting caught with my fingers in the cookie jar, she steps right into me, wrapping me in her warm arms. “I’m so happy for you, love.”
“Thanks, but don’t get ahead of yourself,” I warn her, pulling back as we hover in the kitchen. “It’s only new. Like, super new. Who knows how it’s going to turn out?”
“You forget, Aspen. I’ve known that boy nearly his whole life. I’ve had to put Band-Aids on his wounds and watch from the audience as he received awards at school. I’m as much of a mother to Izaac as his own mother is, and so I know his heart just as I know yours or Austin’s. He’s a good boy, and he loves your brother fiercely. He wouldn’t risk anything with you unless he planned to make it count.”
I cringe. “And if I kinda forced him into it?”
“I stand by what I said. He’s strong and knows how to say no, so whatever you forced him to do, he wouldn’t have done it unless he saw it going somewhere. But with the good comes the bad, and he bears a lot of scars from before his adoption, so when you need to be, be patient, and when you need to push, you push.”
I step into her again, pulling her into another hug. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Awwww gross,” Austin’s voice booms through the kitchen. “What’s that smell?”
My face falls, horror blasting through me.
