“YOU SURE YOU don’t want to try my eggs Florentine?” Mom lifted one half of her English muffin topped with a poached egg, spinach, and I didn’t know what else, and I shook my head.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish what’s on my own plate.” I’d ordered so much that it’d taken three plates to bring it all out. But hey, I’d been ravenous on our walk here, having worked up quite an appetite after the hours I’d spent with West…doing things the woman across from me would die over if she knew.
But she didn’t know. And she wouldn’t. Not until I figured out what West and I were doing.
Christ, what were we doing?
“I’m just glad to see you eating,” Mom said. “If we had time, I’d take you shopping for some new jeans.”
“Nah, that’s okay. I must’ve just…stretched these out or something.”
Mom frowned, and I speared my stack of souffle pancakes, making sure it was an extra-large mouthful for her benefit.
Appeased for the moment, she thankfully changed the subject.
“How are your classes going so far? Anything giving you trouble?”
“Am I supposed to believe you haven’t already asked each one of my professors how I’m doing?”
She at least had the grace to look offended. “I promised you I wouldn’t speak with your professors unless there’s a problem, and I haven’t.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I’d expect you to come to me if there was any issue.”
Huh. That was a first. Even my high school teachers had gotten an earful if they so much as assigned homework on a holiday weekend. “Everything’s fine. Honestly. It’s been an easier adjustment than I expected.”
“Good, that’s good.” She held up her glass as the waiter refilled it with grapefruit juice. “And you’re still happy with the living situation? Because you can always come home—”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. “I mean, uh, the dorm’s great. I know I complained about it before, but it’s actually nice to have my own space.”
“See? I knew you’d settle in just fine and want some privacy. And you feel safe there too, right?”
“Yep. Security’s great.” Other than the fact West and his friends could get by them anytime they wanted. A serious flaw for sure, but one that was working in my favor at the moment.
“I’m glad to hear it. The last thing we want is some troublemaker breaking into your room.” Mom jabbed a little harder than necessary at her sliced fruit.
Had she… Did she know? Surely not. She would’ve led with that and not waited until now if she’d heard West had been caught sneaking in my dorm.
Still…
I tried for indifference. “I haven’t given anyone a reason to want to break into my room. Nothing of value in there anyway.”
“You’re my son. That’s reason enough.”
I frowned. “What are you saying?”
She stopped stabbing at a grape, and when she looked me in the eye, her expression softened a little. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I suppose I’m just being cautious. That’s what parents do, you know. Worry.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that a time or two before,” I said, winking at her to lighten how tense she’d gotten all of a sudden.
There seemed to be something else on her mind, though, and I sent up a prayer that she hadn’t installed any cameras in my room without my knowledge.
“You haven’t been bothered by Weston LaRue again, have you?”
Ah, there it was. No doubt she’d been dying to ask that since she knocked on my door.
“Are you really bringing him up again?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him. I don’t want you mixed up in anything he and his friends are doing.”
“I barely know the guy.” A pang of guilt settled low in my stomach at having to lie to her, but she seemed to have it out for West, and from everything I’d learned about him, it felt unjustified. And what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her…or make her stay up all night worrying.
Mom’s lips pulled into a thin line, and she nodded. “Okay. But…if he asks you to do anything—even if it seems innocent—just say no. All right?”
There hadn’t been a lot of the word “no” when it came to West so far, and I was doing pretty okay. Better than okay, actually.
But I reached over to gently squeeze her arm. “I hear you. Now stop worrying. You’ve got enough on your plate at Astor without stressing over me.”
She gave me a small smile and put her hand over mine briefly before popping a grape into her mouth. “Speaking of worriers, your dad was hoping you’d get a chance to stop by the library one of these days, since you’re close by. Maybe you two could have lunch?”
The New York Public Library was practically my dad’s second home, especially now that I was out of the house and Mom worked such long hours.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea. I’ve been meaning to call him.”
As I filed that on my mental to-do list, Mom’s phone went off, and she reached into her purse to check the screen before quickly silencing it.
“Shoot, I need to take this, honey.” She gave me an apologetic look. “I’ll only be a sec.”
“Take your time,” I said, gesturing to all the food I had left to scarf down.
Mom answered the call as she scooted past the tables and out the front door, and I waited until she was out of view to grab my own phone.
Speak of the devil…
There was a text from West waiting, and my mouth fell open when I opened it and there was a photo of my jeans in a heap on the floor.
STALKER:
BTW I have your jeans. If you want ‘em back you have to come and get them. Otherwise I’m torching the motherfucking things.
Oh shit.
I wanted to slap my damn forehead. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that even though I was wearing West’s jeans, he’d be forced to wear mine home. I could only imagine him having to squeeze into a pair that were too short and too tight and having to walk-of-shame it. I’d pay to see that view, though, and I chuckled to myself.
I’ll definitely be coming for the jeans. They’re my favorite. Btw, I think I stole something else in addition to your jeans…
I hadn’t meant to, but I must’ve grabbed his boxer briefs thinking they were mine. But I hadn’t been wearing any last night…
STALKER:
Tell me you’re not wearing my fucking underwear.
Laughing, I sent back a zipped lips emoji.
STALKER:
Thanks for that. I’m going to use that image in my shower right now.
That was seriously hot. But it was also doing things to my body I’d rather not happen right now.
You do remember I’m sitting at breakfast with my mom, right?
STALKER:
Yeah, but I’m not, and all I can think about is your dick in my boxers and jeans.
Speaking of my jeans, it’s too bad you didn’t snap a pic of yourself in them. I could use a good laugh.
I glanced out the window to make sure Mom was still occupied before l looked back at my phone.
STALKER:
Does this inspire a laugh or make you want to bite it?
A few seconds later, a photo popped up, a shot of West’s bare ass, still outlined in pink from the stitching of the too-tight denim. I’d expected to laugh at an image of him encased in tight jeans, but the photo he’d sent me was hot, seriously fucking hot, made even better by the fact that he’d been wearing something of mine. No doubt West had probably managed to pull off looking amazing in jeans a couple sizes too small, because I was beginning to wonder if there was anything he couldn’t do.
That in and of itself would be annoying as hell if my body didn’t have specific memories of other, more intimate things he did just as well…
My face heated as I tried to push those delicious thoughts to the back of my mind, because now was not the time to think about all the things I wanted to. My mind was a mess I needed to sort out, and not at breakfast with my mom. I sent back a fire emoji.
Bite it. Definitely. I think I might let you keep the jeans after all.
STALKER:
Nah, I’d rather you come in them. I mean, for them. 😉
Good God, I needed to shut this down before the grin on my face grew any wider. How was it West could have such an effect on me? I’d known him for a few weeks and already I could feel this massive shift in my life. Opening up sexually to a guy hadn’t been on my radar, and if I went back and told pre-Astor me the things I’d done, he never would’ve believed it. The me now could still barely believe it.
But kissing West was as natural as breathing, only with the full-body flutters that were normally contained to my stomach. Was that a normal reaction?
He was just so…different. His body was rock hard under my hands. He took what he wanted, no hesitation, just desire, hot and intense. West’s complete lack of self-consciousness made it easier to want to try new things, and last night, I’d certainly checked a few off.
I squirmed in my seat, getting hard just thinking about it. There was something to be said for new experiences, though I wasn’t sure if it was something I’d be open to if it weren’t with West.
Even now, scanning the room for an attractive face, my eyes didn’t stop on any of the guys, though there were a few that would be considered conventionally good looking. Would I be as open to kissing any of them, or more, if the chance arose? Or was it just West’s magnetism that had my stomach in knots?
Biting down on my thumb to keep from smiling so hard, I read over West’s texts again, careful not to scroll up to the photo of his ass as I heard my mom approach.
“You look happy,” she said, pulling out her chair and looking at me with a pleased, but curious, expression. “What’s got you grinning so big?”
I quickly shut off my cell and shoved it deep into the pocket of West’s baggy jeans. “Nothin’ much. Just a funny meme someone sent me.”
“Oh, you’ll have to send it to me.”
Send my mom a photo of West’s ass? Only if I wanted to give her a coronary.
Nodding, I rubbed my jaw, needing a subject change and fast. “That wasn’t work calling already, was it?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry. We’ve had an unexpected expense, which has sent the budget into disarray…”
As she went into all the reasons she was dealing with incompetence, I let out a thankful breath that she’d taken the bait. I’d already had too many close calls this morning, and I needed to keep the focus on her.
The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully, thank God, and by the time I’d walked with her back to Astor, it was time for class. It wasn’t lost on me that I hadn’t gotten a chance to shower or change before starting my day. That meant West’s scent would linger on me, driving me crazy—in a good way—for hours, and like he knew I was thinking of him in that very moment, my phone buzzed.
STALKER:
Don’t make plans for Friday night. You’re mine.
