Letting Go
Page 32
“Now, why are you being so grumpy this morning?” She leaned forward to whisper, “Are you on your period?”
“Mom, no. Seriously?” I laughed awkwardly as I waved a hand at her. “You’re the one being weird, I’m not grumpy at all. You come in here smiling like you have a secret and I’m pretty sure my mom has been replaced by a robot. That, or my phone is a few hours behind on the time for some reason.”
“Like I said, I just wanted to come see you . . .”
“I usually wake you up in the morning!” I argued.
“ . . . and maybe tell you that there is a very handsome young man waiting downstairs for you.”
My head jerked back and I looked toward my bedroom door. “Wait, what?”
She put her hands out to the side and shrugged, but that excited smile was back on her face. “It’s just a possibility.”
“Jagger’s here? Why didn’t he just come up?”
“Because I had to make sure you looked ready for him.”
A short laugh burst from my chest. “Mom. He’s seen me in three-day-old pajamas and greasy hair. Nothing will faze him.”
“Well, that’s gross. Wait, where are you going?” she asked as she quickly climbed off my bed and ran over to me as I walked to the door.
“I’m going to see Jagger . . . unless he’s not actually here . . .”
“He is, but you need to change,” she hissed before shutting my bedroom door.
I once again looked down at my clothes, my expression morphing into confusion when I did. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”
“You look like you’re going to do yoga.”
“And? I just got home from running and taking a shower, I wanted to be comfortable.”
“And you can’t look like you’re not excited to see him!”
I laughed in frustration and looked at the door longingly before shooting my mom a look. “I am excited to see him, these clothes don’t say that.”
“Grey Alexandra LaRue, change your clothes.”
My eyes widened and a smile pulled at my lips. “Okay, that sounds more like you in the morning. What do you suggest I wear?”
“Something perfect.”
My expression fell. “Perfect.”
“Yes, and put some makeup on. I’ll go distract your guest.”
“Mom,” I called out when she opened the door and walked out of the room. “This is Jagger. Not some random guy coming to see me. Jagger stopped being a guest when we were twelve.”
She pointed a finger at me as she walked backward toward the staircase. “Change,” she demanded quietly.
Biting back a groan, I walked over to my closet and flung open the door. I didn’t know what qualified as “perfect” at nine in the morning, and at that moment nothing seemed better than what I was already wearing. After staring at my clothes for what felt like hours, I grabbed my green lace racerback tank and threw it on over the black spaghetti strap I was already wearing. Stepping out of my yoga pants, I searched for a pair of shorts and pulled them on as I walked to the door. I stopped abruptly as soon as I hit the doorway, and didn’t hold back my next groan as I turned right back around and walked over to my vanity to put on some makeup—the entire time grumbling about my mom.
Maybe I was in a bad mood.
My mind drifted back to the dreams I’d had last night, and that I’d let replay through my mind all this morning. Jagger still hadn’t kissed me again, and even though we’d spent all day together yesterday, every touch had been started by me. I knew he was letting me set the pace, but it was making me think that I’d somehow pushed him back with my mini-meltdown the other night. My dreams of never being able to get close enough to him just made my worries increase.
Once I finished with my makeup, I looked at my reflection for a few seconds before grabbing my phone and taking off toward the stairs. I shook my head and tried not to laugh when I heard my mom talking. She wasn’t just being weird with me; she was being weird with Jagger as well. Questioning him like she was just meeting him for the first time, asking all about his life that she already knew just as well as his own mother.
“Mom, Jagger can’t tell you anything about himself that you don’t already know,” I said by way of announcing myself when I walked into the living room.
Jagger gave me a look that I was sure matched the expression on my own face when the robot posing as my mom had been in my room, and I just sent him a smile. When I glanced over at my mom, she gestured to her clothes before giving me a thumbs-up while mouthing, “Perfect.”
“Did your mom have a caffeine IV this morning?” Jagger whispered in my ear as he pulled me into his arms.
“You’d think so.”
“Well, what are the plans for today, kids?”
Jagger turned back to look at my mom, his arm wrapped securely around my waist. “Uh, not sure. Do you need Grey for anything today?”
“No, no. Of course not, keep her as long as you want.” I made a face and she quickly added, “Except for the night, of course! Bring her home tonight, you know, so she’s here. In her bed. Without you in it too.”
A husky laugh sounded next to me, and Jagger’s fingers flexed against me. “Of course, Mrs. LaRue.”
Mom blushed and waved him off. “You can call me Darcy, sweetie, you know that.”
Oh my God. My mom was flirting with my boyfriend. Man friend . . . person. “Mom!”
“Mom, no. Seriously?” I laughed awkwardly as I waved a hand at her. “You’re the one being weird, I’m not grumpy at all. You come in here smiling like you have a secret and I’m pretty sure my mom has been replaced by a robot. That, or my phone is a few hours behind on the time for some reason.”
“Like I said, I just wanted to come see you . . .”
“I usually wake you up in the morning!” I argued.
“ . . . and maybe tell you that there is a very handsome young man waiting downstairs for you.”
My head jerked back and I looked toward my bedroom door. “Wait, what?”
She put her hands out to the side and shrugged, but that excited smile was back on her face. “It’s just a possibility.”
“Jagger’s here? Why didn’t he just come up?”
“Because I had to make sure you looked ready for him.”
A short laugh burst from my chest. “Mom. He’s seen me in three-day-old pajamas and greasy hair. Nothing will faze him.”
“Well, that’s gross. Wait, where are you going?” she asked as she quickly climbed off my bed and ran over to me as I walked to the door.
“I’m going to see Jagger . . . unless he’s not actually here . . .”
“He is, but you need to change,” she hissed before shutting my bedroom door.
I once again looked down at my clothes, my expression morphing into confusion when I did. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”
“You look like you’re going to do yoga.”
“And? I just got home from running and taking a shower, I wanted to be comfortable.”
“And you can’t look like you’re not excited to see him!”
I laughed in frustration and looked at the door longingly before shooting my mom a look. “I am excited to see him, these clothes don’t say that.”
“Grey Alexandra LaRue, change your clothes.”
My eyes widened and a smile pulled at my lips. “Okay, that sounds more like you in the morning. What do you suggest I wear?”
“Something perfect.”
My expression fell. “Perfect.”
“Yes, and put some makeup on. I’ll go distract your guest.”
“Mom,” I called out when she opened the door and walked out of the room. “This is Jagger. Not some random guy coming to see me. Jagger stopped being a guest when we were twelve.”
She pointed a finger at me as she walked backward toward the staircase. “Change,” she demanded quietly.
Biting back a groan, I walked over to my closet and flung open the door. I didn’t know what qualified as “perfect” at nine in the morning, and at that moment nothing seemed better than what I was already wearing. After staring at my clothes for what felt like hours, I grabbed my green lace racerback tank and threw it on over the black spaghetti strap I was already wearing. Stepping out of my yoga pants, I searched for a pair of shorts and pulled them on as I walked to the door. I stopped abruptly as soon as I hit the doorway, and didn’t hold back my next groan as I turned right back around and walked over to my vanity to put on some makeup—the entire time grumbling about my mom.
Maybe I was in a bad mood.
My mind drifted back to the dreams I’d had last night, and that I’d let replay through my mind all this morning. Jagger still hadn’t kissed me again, and even though we’d spent all day together yesterday, every touch had been started by me. I knew he was letting me set the pace, but it was making me think that I’d somehow pushed him back with my mini-meltdown the other night. My dreams of never being able to get close enough to him just made my worries increase.
Once I finished with my makeup, I looked at my reflection for a few seconds before grabbing my phone and taking off toward the stairs. I shook my head and tried not to laugh when I heard my mom talking. She wasn’t just being weird with me; she was being weird with Jagger as well. Questioning him like she was just meeting him for the first time, asking all about his life that she already knew just as well as his own mother.
“Mom, Jagger can’t tell you anything about himself that you don’t already know,” I said by way of announcing myself when I walked into the living room.
Jagger gave me a look that I was sure matched the expression on my own face when the robot posing as my mom had been in my room, and I just sent him a smile. When I glanced over at my mom, she gestured to her clothes before giving me a thumbs-up while mouthing, “Perfect.”
“Did your mom have a caffeine IV this morning?” Jagger whispered in my ear as he pulled me into his arms.
“You’d think so.”
“Well, what are the plans for today, kids?”
Jagger turned back to look at my mom, his arm wrapped securely around my waist. “Uh, not sure. Do you need Grey for anything today?”
“No, no. Of course not, keep her as long as you want.” I made a face and she quickly added, “Except for the night, of course! Bring her home tonight, you know, so she’s here. In her bed. Without you in it too.”
A husky laugh sounded next to me, and Jagger’s fingers flexed against me. “Of course, Mrs. LaRue.”
Mom blushed and waved him off. “You can call me Darcy, sweetie, you know that.”
Oh my God. My mom was flirting with my boyfriend. Man friend . . . person. “Mom!”
