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“We”—I shake my head—“do not.”
His jaw drops, and his eyes narrow.
“I’ll use whatever I need to win a fight or prove my point. Don’t take it personally. We short girls need all the leverage we can get.”
“Jesus, you’re adorable.”
“I am, aren’t I?” I grin.
“Doesn’t mean you’ll get your way all the time.”
I lift a shoulder. “Mostly, it does.”
He takes my face in his hands. “If I’m going to ask that question I want to ask you, you gotta go easy on me. I was a shit boyfriend in the past, and I can’t fuck things up, not with you.”
“Because I’m adora—”
He quiets me with a kiss, one not as gentle as our first, but … so good.
His tongue slices through my lips, parting them. He licks inside my mouth, devouring me and groaning softly as he does it. He tastes like mint, fresh air, and …
“You’re less than a hundred steps to your bedroom—take it there.”
Fucking Leah.
He pulls back, sucking on my tongue, and then pressing his lips to mine. Against them, he whispers, “Be my girl?” Then he steps back and looks at me while I nod like a fucking bobble head on the front of a mountain bike on rough terrain.
“I just hope you know that, even though I’m kind of a small package, I’m sometimes”—I shake my head—“most of the time, a lot to handle.”
Lips twitching up in amusement, he says, “I’m here for it.”
“I made food. It may suck because I never had time to learn how to cook, but inspiration hit when I woke and Mom called and talked me through.” I’m blabbering because I’m anxious, like seriously anxious. I clear my throat. “I made food.”
“I love that you made food. Can’t wait to cook with you sometime.”
Looking down at my hands still fisted in his shirt, I should probably be embarrassed out how hard I’m holding on to him and start to let go.
He holds his hands over them. “I’m gonna need my mouth on yours a lot tonight.”
I don’t even know what to say.
Theo holding my hand, we walk into the house and head toward the kitchen when Leo calls his name.
“Go. We can’t be that couple who doesn’t leave each other’s sides.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Why indeed,” I consider out loud, and Theos silently chuckles. “Go chill with your guys, and I’m going to warm up the food.”
* * *
I’m notsure how normal relationships between mothers and daughters work, but I am almost positive that my relationship with mine has some sort of glitch in it, or I’m either chipped, or there was a cord that was never snipped when I was born. One that is invisible, untouchable, and unbreakable no matter how many miles it is stretched. But not three minutes after I woke up after my reset nap and allowed myself to bask in the aftermath of what just went down with Theo—what went down? Theo—my mom’s ringtone sounded off, and when I answered, she looked me over suspiciously.
“It’s not Dean Costello. It’s Theo Rivera, isn’t it?”
Ten minutes later, I was in my vehicle and on my way to the store to buy ingredients to make something to add to the buffet that Kameron and Evan planned for the after game festivities.
I was a little concerned that fried spring rolls and dumplings were a stretch for me to start with on the beginning of my culinary journey.
