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“Hi, Mom?” Parker questioned more than said, walking toward me, her brows furrowed. She gestured toward the bike. “Whose Harley?”
The bike. How was I going to explain it? My eye started twitching, so I blinked a bunch to stop it. “What Harley?”
Parker looked back at Weston’s Harley and then at me again, giving me a what the fuck is your deal look. “The one in the driveway.”
She said it slowly like she thought maybe I was losing my mind.
I was. I was definitely losing my mind.
How was I going to explain the bike? How? I started to panic and my eye twitched so bad that I just closed it all the way and held it there, praying I didn’t look like deranged Popeye but knowing I probably did.
I looked over at Prisha. Poor girl. We weren’t supposed to meet this way.
“The Harley’s mine.” I heard from behind me and immediately froze. Fuck. Please tell me this man hadn’t gotten out from underneath that truck when I’d told his ass to hide.
I turned slowly, my one eye wide, my twitching one still pressed closed. And there he was, in all of his manly glory, studying the girls.
I turned slowly back to them, one eye still closed, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t see the raised eyebrows and big eyes they were giving Weston.
Parker finally dragged her eyes away from Weston and focused them on me. If possible her eyebrows rose higher and her head dipped down like well, who the hell is this, but I just stood there like a fool.
Weston’s big frame stepped in front of mine and he stuck one hand out. “Hi, I’m West,” he said to Parker and ,whom I was still guessing was, Prisha. “I’m a friend of your mom’s.”
Parker studied him from the soles of his shoes to the top of his head before finally holding her hand out to him, too. “Nice to meet you. I’m Parker,” she said, her cheeks pink. She peeped her head around him to me, comically. “Oh. My. God,” she mouthed like he wasn’t standing right there, right in front of her, holding her hand.
Kill. Me. Now.
She let go of his hand to turn and look behind her at the Harley. “Cool bike,” she said, clearly not intimidated at all by the big man holding a wrench in her driveway.
That was how cool my kid was. And here I was, the epitome of not cool, my eye twitching, me having a mild heart attack.
He gave some kind of manly chin nod that I was assuming meant thanks.
“Yourfriendworking on the truck?” she asked me, and I wasn’t so sure I liked the way she said friend. It sounded like she was insinuating something. Something that was probably true. But still.
I completely ignored her. “You must be Prisha,” I said, sticking my own hand out and ignoring Parker and Weston. Why? Because they were both assholes.
“Hey, Mrs. Davies.” Prisha’s hand felt warm in mine and she had the kind of smile that took over her whole face. She was different from Parker, but she seemed cool despite that, with her preppy Keds shoes and cut-off shorts, and a plain white T-shirt. She had a little nose ring that twinkled in her right nostril and big, brown, kind eyes. I immediately liked her.
“Do you mind if Prisha stays for dinner?” Parker asked. “We’re going to study for a little bit for chem and then hang for a while.”
I shrugged, still holding that twitching eye closed. “Fine with me. I prepped a chicken pot pie this morning, so we have plenty.”
I honestly just wanted to get these girls into the house and away from Weston as soon as possible.
Parker stepped closer to Weston with a big smile and an eyelash bat that I had never before seen in my life. “You should stay for dinner, too, West.”
Oh my God. What in the ever-loving God almighty was she doing? And was she calling him West like they were besties? What parallel universe had I stepped into and how the hell did I get back to mine?
She glanced quickly at me before continuing. “Mom makes the absolute best chicken pot pie. You will love it. Besides, it’s the least she could do for helping her fix the truck.”
Prisha stood there staring at Weston like he hung the moon. I stood there glaring at them all like I’d rather be on the moon.
I was no fool. I knew what my conniving daughter was up to. I thought about her words in the bathroom that day. How she just wanted me to find someone and be happy. That was sweet and all, but this was not the way to go about it.
“I’m sure Weston is busy this afternoon, pumpkin. He’s been here all day working on the truck. We shouldn’t tie up the rest of his afternoon, too,” I said as sweetly as possible when really I wanted to grab her scheming and matchmaking earlobe and drag her into the house by it.
“Well, he’d be missing out on one of the best meals in the world,” she said, hitching her backpack higher up on her back. “And then after dinner, y’all could go out for a ride.” She eyed the Harley quickly and then looked back at Weston. “Wouldn’t that be fun?” she asked him, her eyes full of mirth.
